#I’ve been told my a good source that he’s hot so

[scrimblyscrorblo]

Just a lil’ demon Giyuu, as a treat I think.

PETITION TO LET HIM BE WET ((not sexually)) ((unless…))

((Demon Giyuu makes me angsty and sad so I like to think it’s just a lil bit of makeup Uzui put him in for some training exercise. Dressing up was not required but he insisted))

#kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer art #artists on tumblr #demon slayer #giyuu tomioka #kny giyuu #kny tomioka #tomioka giyuu #demon giyuu #demon tomioka giyuu #LET HIM BE WET #let him go apeshit #as a treat #I’ve been told my a good source that he’s hot so #I’m just saying #🥺 #👉🏻👈🏻

[sourholland]

Guilty as Sin

CHAPTER ONE ; azriel x fem!reader

summary: the lost princess of the dawn court finds herself brazenly escaping her own personal living hell. seeking refuge, as well as peace to plot in the city of velaris—she meets azriel shadowsinger and through the throws of disdain and discomfort they are forced to work side by side, intertwined through their shared scars.

a/n: ok so this first chapter is literally all exposition and world building within this world, i’m so sorry :( i promise that it will very much so pick up. this series is mainly about me exploring different aspects of my writing, i’ve never written a long series before. my longest is 50k and each chapter was about 2k words so this is something i feel really proud to put out, even if it is just the first chapter. if you’d like to be tagged please let me know!! this fic isn’t necessarily inspired by, but is a lot like taylor swift’s new song “guilty as sin?”. feedback always appreciated:)

warnings: strong language, mentions of trauma regarding men, heavy themes of ptsd and suicidal thoughts

spotify playlist (unfinished)

wc: 5.4k

Run.

The word cut through your mind, slicing through each and every thought you possessed as you gazed downwards at your bloodied hands. There was so much blood. Hot, thick blood ran down your forearms, coating your face and the inside of your mouth. Your stomach lurched, however by the grace of the Gods, you fled.

In over fifty years, you had not left this camp. Since you were just a girl, at twelve years old, you had resided within the hidden stone of the warrior camp. Now you had no choice but to utter a quick prayer to the Mother and run fast and furiously forward without looking back. Only the knife you had just used remained sheathed at your hip as you felt the ground beneath your boot-clad feet. There was a cloak pulled around you, it covered your face well and kept you concealed. 

What was that saying, you thought silently to yourself in between painful dry heaves. ‘Feet don’t fail me now.’

It was nightfall and you ran tirelessly through the forest you had been warned to never brave on your own. As a child, your mother had warned that you must not meet what lurks after dark. She told you that not even those beasts would mind slaying the Princess of the Dawn Court. To them, the title was useless and your blood was just the same. Blood. You reeked of those warriors' blood and sweat and desperation. It was clad to your skin like a layer of oil or grime, the taste of iron making you spit. 

A part of you wondered if you would die out in this forest, no idea where you were or what place Cousin Thesan had brought you so many decades ago. Stopping to lean against a tree, you panted and let the silent tears flow at once. Where were you? For all you knew, he had dropped you within the Continents and only used very good wards to keep the camp hidden. Why had you let them take you? What hadn’t you fought harder against Thesan’s word as Amarantha began exercising power among Prythian.

You had no answer, but only began to run once again. There was no choice, unless you planned to slit your own throat and simply give up. No. You are a warrior, you are a fighter and nothing would keep you from finding your cousin and demanding answers for his crimes. That’s what his actions were to you, criminal and inhumane and you would not be surprised if in the end–you adorned his blood on your hands as well. 

“Who dares enter this part of my forest?” A voice drawled from nowhere in particular, causing you to flinch and raise the dagger shakily in defense. “What is your name, girl?”

The voice came from the trees, you swore to yourself. It came in whisps and wind, the blackness of the forest making it impossible for you to determine where exactly the source was. If there was a source. It omitted what you swore was a chuckle, an unfamiliar sound to you for so long. Sweat collected at the nape of your neck and temples, hair stuck down to your forehead and your skin blazed as you continued to rotate in full circles with your dagger pointed at nothing.

“Y/N, Princess of Dawn and Bringer of Light. What is your business in dwelling here? This is no place for a young Fae girl. Especially one so sweet as yourself, and you wear the blood of ten men. It is as if you hope to die tonight,” the voice whispered, a hot, invisible breath on your neck. “Do you hope to die tonight?”

“No,” you finally spoke into the abyss. “I hope to locate my homelands, I am in search of the High Lord of the Dawn Court. Show yourself.”

The voice ignored your demand, “leave this forest, Princess. For the ones hunting you are far worse than those warriors you slaughtered miles back.”

The stiff cloth of your dress began to itch beneath your robes and you stood taller than before as the voice surrounded you. Perhaps you would die tonight, at least you would have gone out thrashing and fighting until your final breath. There was a mild ache behind your brow and the night sky showed no signs of daybreak.

“And why have you refrained from killing me?” You finally asked, shifting back and forth and contemplating whether or not to begin running again. 

“I possess no body. I am nothing but the wind and the trees and the breeze against your skin,” it hummed, cynically. “Cross the river up ahead and veer left, the path will lead you out of the forest and into the countryside where at least you will not be hunted for sport and strewn up and cut open for the creatures that dwell here to eat you alive.”

A cold chill ran up your spine and left your fingers to form fists.The spirit-like being was gone as fast as it had stumbled upon you. How did you know, you wondered idly for a moment. Its presence was absent, the air feeling more desolate and empty than it had moments before. It could very well be a trick, a way to lure you into its very trap and do exactly as it said.

You continued on to the river and went left, just as the being had told you to, as it had cooed into the shell of your ear. It was only about a mile later and you were coming into a dark clearing where animals lay sleeping along large acres of land. There were cows and sheeps first, then you saw pens of pigs and chicken coops further. Looking back, you saw how truly terrifying the forest was in comparison to the moonlit field.There were a set of yellow eyes staring out at you, but as soon as you blinked they were gone as if they were never there to begin with. While you knew you would never know, you threw a prayer up to the Mother regardless and hoped that the breeze-like thing that had most likely saved your life was at peace.

There was very little you could do besides walk along the outskirts of the land and hope to find some inclination of where to locate your court. Your court. The Dawn Court was filled with your people, people who had not seen you in five decades. The memories of your childhood were like knives in your gut, twisting and turning until finally you expelled them from your mind and breathed in deeply. The trek was long and you walked all through the night with no direction of where to go or what to do with yourself. There were not exactly any signs pointing you towards your home, or once home. Now you had no home, the camp was much more like a prison than a home to you. 

“Are you lost?” A little Fae girl spoke, taking in your appearance as she found you still walking along the countryside that next morning. She did not appear to be scared, however she was very young and held a basket of wildflowers in her hand.

“Yes,” you almost cried at the sight of her, another human and a female at that. It had been fifty three years since you had encountered someone of the same sex. “Where am I?”

“I live just beyond that hill. You are in the Dawn Court,” she said wearily, pointing over and beyond the hill that sat a few hundred yards away. “Should I fetch my father to help you?”

“No,” you said, knowing well what you had done the night prior and how you appeared. “I am looking to get to the Dawn Court Palace, do you know where I might be able to find it?”

The girl, no more than nine, looked over you once again and it was as if she was assessing your soul. She drew her lips into a fine line and set the basket down to begin spouting off some directions. You nodded, taking in all of them with careful consideration and noting that the spirit had led you onto the right track for some odd reason. Once the girl had finished, she merely bowed her head and turned back towards her house. 

.·:*¨☆◦✦◦☆¨*:·.

The Palace was nothing like you had remembered it. It was so much brighter and broader than you recalled within the narrow escape of your child-mind. The Dawn Court Palace gleamed under the beaming sun that had been burning your skin for hours as you followed the little girl’s instructions. 

It was so vast and yet it seemed to call out to you, there was a long way to get to even one of the many stairs leading up to the Palace and so many guards standing tall at every entrance you could see. There was no way in, you thought. Not when you look as you do. Would any of these men even know who you are, you wondered. 

“Who goes there?” A loud voice bellowed, bringing you away from your thoughts.

Who says who goes there, you thought. Prick.

Well it looks like Cousin Thesan spared no expense in making sure no one went in unnoticed, you rolled your eyes internally and spun on your heels to meet the look of the brooding male who wielded his weapon against you. He did not recognize you, as you had expected. His eyebrow had a long scar going through it and he held a blade in his hand, waiting for an explanation.

“Stand down!” You matched his tone, standing tall while the male practically laughed in your face.

“You are lucky that I have not already gutted you for crossing into our territory–”

The sound of you swallowing hard could be heard from even where he stood. You planted your feet and let all of those lessons on looking the part of royalty run over you. The guard was cut off by your sharp and fierce voice, “I am Y/N, Princess of Dawn! Stand down or don’t. I can’t say that I really care either way, but you very well might when I cut out your tongue and feed it back down your throat.”

The man went rigid for a moment and he took in a sharp breath. He seemed to be assessing you, his eyes scanned your frame while his weapon remained as it was. A part of you wondered if he thought you were bluffing, however the dried blood seemed to tell him everything he needed to know. He maintained his authoritative stance, only drawing back to call over some of his men. He whispered something into one male’s ear and his face went blanche. He looked over you with such careful consideration and shock, his eyes wide open and doe-like from where you stood.

“You claim to be the Lost Princess?” He finally spoke, tilting his head to the side to expose a long, fleshy scar across his neck.

“Well the last that I checked–I am the only Princess of the Dawn Court, however I am most certainly not lost, sir. I do wish to speak to my cousin, though,” you requested, earnestly. “As soon as possible.”

The Lost Fucking Princess. Who even comes up with this bullshit?

One of the males who adorned guard-like clothing brought you into the Palace wearily. He did not lay a hand on you, but motioned you to walk in front of him as if you posed some sort of threat. Perhaps you did, killing Thesan had crossed your mind once or twice. The idea of watching him writhe excited you quite a bit. The thought nearly brought a smile to your lips, only managing to suppress it when you began climbing the steps.

.·:*¨☆◦✦◦☆¨*:·.

The male brought you to a throne room, sunlight dancing along the walls and spilling onto the floors. Everything was so magnificent, the aura of the room was nothing short of golden. Blood boiled within you as you recalled all of the years you had wasted away to nothing, hidden in that rotting, despicable camp where all you ate was leftover meat scraps and watered-down soup for over fifty years. 

Thesan sat at the forefront of the room, he wore a crown and spoke to the male at his right in a hushed whisper. It was almost as if he did not know you were here, like he was uninformed of your arrival in his court. When the male who brought you in nearly tripped over his feet to murmur into Thesan’s ear, you had your answer. Your cousin’s eyes snapped towards you in an instant, he rose to his feet immediately and you swore you could feel the blood pumping in your ears. With a hot face and white knuckles, you barreled towards him with the intent to kill.

“You promised me! You promised me!” Your magic rippled across the room as you shouted, pure rage causing the ground to shake. “You left me there to rot like vermin! How could you?”

With tunnel vision, the two men who had been holding you back were nearly invisible as the ground continued to shake violently. Thesan was silent, his eyes were wide with genuine revelation and disbelief. Thrashing and clawing and screaming was all you could do. He had taken years from you, good years that had been ripped away and stolen from you as a child.

“You’re nothing but a fucking liar, Thesan. We share blood! I am your family and you threw me out to the wolves. I was twelve years old and you abandoned me. I trusted you with my life. My life!” you cried and flinched at the guards’ hands. “Get your fucking hands off of me!”

The two men who held you were sent flying backwards by an invisible force, your magic had been provoked and was now rippling off of you in waves. Thesan approached with his hands out, he still had not spoken a word. With a wave, he cleared the room and it was only the two of you left standing.

“Y/N,” he said in a soft hush. “Please just allow me to explain–”

“Explain? Explain how you brought me to your sick fucking camp when I was a girl and lied to everyone under the guise of my protection? Explain how after three months, your letters and visits stopped? Oh, perhaps you plan to explain how you left me to live with ten cursed warriors for over five decades and I have to find out six days ago that Amarantha was defeated by a human girl years ago as I still sat by idly waiting for my dear Cousin Thesan to retrieve me from my own personal living hell?” The words were like knives, piercing Thesan one after another as you resisted the urge to rip out his throat. “Explain, go ahead.”

Thesan could not believe his eyes, nor the venom spewing from your lips. He surveyed your too-thin figure and cold eyes, how they had changed so much since he had last seen you as a small girl. Everything you said was true, to some degree. He could not deny any of it, however he had not realized how the camp had treated you. He had not banished you, but relocated you for reasons of his own before Amarantha could rise to full power. When Thesan caught word of what had begun under the mountain, he made rash decisions and sacrifices that he was not proud of and would have to live with for the rest of his immortal life.

“Y/N, I did send you away for your protection. Do you believe that my brother would have let me live if I sent his only child away to live in squalor while we all reside in a palace? I sent you away because my people were being ripped from their homes and your mere existence puts a target on your back,” he said, steadily. “A Princess, the sole heir to the Dawn Court. It is unheard of. When my brother’s mate–your mother–birthed a girl, our people were ecstatic. As years passed and Amarantha began her show of power, everyone grew antsy for my heir. I tried, I remain trying to produce an heir to this court.”

You shook your head, hot tears running down your dirt-crusted cheeks. “Not good enough,” your voice cracked.

“Please, just hear my words,” he begged you. “When you were twelve years old, I assumed tensions were at their height and our people grew restless. Amarantha had begun slaughtering innocent Fae across Prythian and with no heir, whispers surfaced of the Princess of the Dawn Court. A female heir, one who reeked of power at that. Males who would never kneel before a female began to place bounties on your head, terrified that I would be slayed and there would be no one but you to resume my place.”

Thesan breathed deep, but continued. “I told my brother that the safest option would be to make you disappear. We would claim that you were hunted by Amarantha’s loyal subjects, nowhere to be found. I gathered some of my strongest men who had committed wrongdoings within my court and banished them to the camp where they would be tied until I liberated you.”

“You locked me away with criminals!” You seethed, already knowing but surprised at his willingness to utter the words freely. “How do you think your filthy, touch-starved, vile men acted once I had first bled?”

“This is where I have committed wrong,” he whispered. “It was only supposed to be a year, maybe two while I gained footing and figured out a way to take back what Amarantha had stolen from me. Three months after I sent you away, she captured the entirety of this court. Every court, save for Spring, went Under the Mountain. You were concealed, hidden so well by my wards, that she never even bothered to go looking for you. She believed that her own subjects had killed and discarded you. That was the extent at which things had gotten, she merely trusted the death of the Princess of the Dawn Court was another insignificant casualty to her reign. Everyone believed you to be dead. My letters stopped because I was trapped, my power basically nothing compared to what it once was.”

The truth washed over you slowly, blinking away tears but staying put and shaking your head at him. It was still not good enough, it would never be good enough. For fifty-three years you had known nothing but scraps and gangly men and the dirt underneath your bleeding fingernails. 

“It has been years since Amarantha was defeated,” you gritted out. “Defeated by a human girl–”

“Feyre Cursebreaker, High Lady of the Night Court and human no longer. Myself and the other High Lords used our power to bring her back from death as High Fae,” he told you. “I know you will never forgive me for not retrieving you immediately, however we entered a gruesome war against Hybern and have only just begun to recover and rehabilitate. It is no excuse, I know this. I hoped by now that I would have an heir, nothing has changed in regards to how your existence might be received by this court.”

He had left you there while everyone rejoiced in their freedoms, fought on the frontlines of battle, and then even still once we had won. Nothing but pure, unadulterated rage consumed you and yet all you could muster up was a pathetic noise straight from your throat. He had done all of this because he simply was not capable of bearing a child and assumed that you’re suffering was all the more worth it if he could fuck his way to the ideal future High Lord of Dawn. All men are the same, you thought with a sickness churning within you.

“You are a sick excuse for a man,” was all you spat. “Where are my parents?”

“Dead,” he lowered his head. “They died swiftly, soon after we arrived Under the Mountain.”

The gift that just keeps on giving, you thought whilst holding back a near sob. He gazed upon you with pity, finally taking you in wholly. The blood. There was so much blood and he could tell from the scent that it did not belong solely to you.

“What of the men at the camp?” 

“Dead,” you replied, just as he had. “I cannot say they went swiftly, as I slaughtered them all.”

The images of blood spewing and spilled flashed across the forefront of your mind, the way that some of them went quick and others went begging for a semblance of mercy. You looked down at your palms, flexing your fingers and feeling the energy throughout your entire body. It pulsed at the tips of your fingers, throbbed in the heels of your feet, and thrummed at the backs of your eyes. Over the years, there had been no one to teach you to manage it so more often than not it consumed you whole. 

You could kill him, you let the idea wash over you. Or at least you could try. In his home with all of his warriors, it would prove difficult. He was the High Lord, your High Lord–no, death was too swift and simple. You would need time to plan out your next steps, you pondered whilst maintaining a stone cold facade. You would have to play your cards right, he would deal with you based on how you acted as you stood before him. Truthfully, the idea of living with him puts you on the brink of physical sickness. You would rather die than be forced to stay under the same roof, lips curling slightly with disgust as he gave you another look filled with shame and guilt.

“I will not stay here,” was all you spat at him. “Not here, not in this court with you, I wish to be sent elsewhere.”

“Elsewhere? Do you understand what will come of your sudden return to our lands?” Thesan’s eyes were fixed on you, his voice near hoarse. “Y/N, I know that–”

“I will not stay here. I ask this one thing of you. I will not spread word of your pathetic sterileness, nor my title to the Dawn Court if you will simply offer me this one thing. Do you not owe it to me?” 

While the immense grief and pain in your voice was authentic, you made sure to create the illusion of your complete and utter wreckage. Mustering up tears, you had to get out of this place. There was no possibility of your survival if not, not even at the hands of these so-called people out for your blood–but at the hands of yourself. Every bit of you was exhausted, conveying complete and utter devastation into your eyes as he debated your request. 

Do you not owe it to me?

Thesan rubbed violently at the bridge of his nose and nodded to himself, he squeezed his eyes shut and for a moment you remembered the admiration you once felt for him. Admiration turned into blazing resentment and rage that had nearly created an earthquake. He wouldn’t force you to reside here under him, would he?

“I will do my best at making other… arrangements,” said Thesan after a few moments of tense silence. “I make no promises, as we may very well be approaching the brink of another war, however in the meantime you should wash up.” 

A breath of relief escaped you, “what of the guards who know who I am? I told them.”

“I should like to call in a favor from Rhysand,” he murmured, almost as if he was speaking to himself.

.·:*¨☆◦✦◦☆¨*:·.

“Leave me, please” you said to the servants gently, thanking them for the filled tub and fresh gown that was laid out for you within the spare bedroom and adjacent bathing room.

Everything was so prim and proper and doused in sunlight, it made you nostalgic for a life that once was. The water was steaming, layers of blood and grime covering you as you sunk down into the tub. The magic of the tub was forced to refresh itself almost as soon as you sat, growing murky immediately as you began to scrub your skin raw. 

Would it be easier to drown yourself, you breathed a shallow breath. No, someone was posted outside of the bedroom door listening in. A guard, most likely. He would hear, putting an end to your pathetic excuse of a suicide attempt and then Thesan would never let you leave. Or maybe he would, perhaps your untimely death was just what he hoped for in order to rid himself of the problems you presented him with.

Getting clean felt impossible, even with the tub enchanted to replace its filthy water. Your hair was oily and your skin remained covered in a film of grease. It took over an hour just for you to feel somewhat clean. At the camp, there had thankfully been a tub with running water and an enchantment of certain supplies so you never went without. Food, however, was hunted for you and everyone else. As the only female, every night you received what was left on the bone of whatever animal they had slaughtered in the nearby woods, eating last time and time again. 

One of the servants came in to help you dress in the gown custom to the Dawn Court, it fell to your ankles and glistened with what you could have sworn was pure sunlight. The tall woman braided your hair back and applied rogue to your cheeks and an oil to your lips. As you gazed into the mirror before you, you could hardly recognize yourself for the first time in five decades. There was something so regal about you, a light cascading off of you like an aura of gold. Thesan possessed the same coloring, the light pouring out from him in bouts of power. 

The woman knew who you were, you could tell that much from the way her eyes danced across your reflection. She said nothing, though. You thanked her, smiling softly as if she had not just seen you covered in days old blood and filth. The Lost Princess, you recalled what the male had referred to you as outside. She has no idea what to think of you, it seems. Maybe that was for the best, perhaps you were better as the shadow of a girl who once was but no longer existed. Instead, some sort of killer prowled beneath your now eternally crimson stained skin. 

“The High Lord has called for you,” the woman said softly, pulling you from your thoughts and causing your eyes to drift to meet her gaze in the reflection of the mirror. 

Once you had begun your trek back to the same room as earlier, the sun had begun to fall and the sky was painted endless shades of pink and orange. There was so much open space, all of the windows gaping to allow for as much sunlight as possible during the daytime. You had never felt so exhausted, eyes burning from the lack of sleep you had acquired on your journey and the use of power earlier on in the day. 

When you entered the room, Thesan was in conversation with a man that you could only assume was Rhysand. He was attractive in an almost inconceivable way, like one of the Gods. None of the males at the camp had resembled anything like him, no one in the Dawn Court resembled anything like him. Lucky High Lady, you thought mindlessly. Rhysand seemed to chuckle at nothing, turning to meet your gaze.

“Princess,” he greeted you with the friendly upturning of his lips. “Welcome back from the dead is in order, I suppose. I’m Rhys.”

“Funny,” you huffed a stiff laugh at him and extended a hand for him to grasp. Power ricocheted off of Rhysand in a way that caused your stomach to flip. “Y/N.”

His eyes simmered with something like pity mixed with amusement, he was not blind to the fact that you still had not looked Thesan in his eyes. Rhysand had been steadfast in arriving at the Dawn Court, his solemn look told you that he had been briefed on some of what was going on. How much, though? What had Thesan deemed important enough to share and what was determined as insignificant. Clearly as you had been cast away as insignificant, he could not be trusted to relay information.

“Rhysand has consulted with his High Lady and they have agreed to offer you a place to stay in the Night Court for as long as you should require it,” Thesan informed you. 

“At what cost?” 

“No cost,” Rhysand assured you at once. “Thesan has… told me of your circumstances–”

“What circumstances?” You demanded, cutting him off. “What did he tell you?”

There was a tense silence as you grew flustered and aggravated by your cousin. Thesan knew nothing of your circumstances, he knew absolutely nothing of what you had endured. Rhysand had strangely given you a look of understanding, it was as if he knew exactly what you were thinking. Like he had been inside of your mind, reliving the experiences with you.

“He told me of your power, he told me you have yet to learn how to wield it as well. He says that he senses you may have inherited more than just his healing gifts, but that the nature of your identity is sensitive. I admit that I do have to agree with him in concealing your return, Princess–for now, at least,” Rhyand only looked to you, his words carefully chosen so as not to upset you. “I have a house in Velaris, the city where I live, it houses three people as of late. My two brothers, Azriel and Cassian, and my mate’s sister Nesta. You would stay there, it is secluded enough that you will have as much privacy as you desire. I spoke with my healer Madja, she has agreed to allow you to work under her in an apprenticeship of sorts. She’s one of the best, not just in Velaris but anywhere in Prythian. I feel you both may be able to benefit from each other, her experience and your magic. My cousin Mor has offered to train with you once she arrives home from Vallahan on business, until then one of my brothers–”

You cut him off again, “Training? I do not wish to offend you, but why should I need your family to train me?”

“Y/N,” he began, assessing how honest he should be. “You have no muscle built up whatsoever and considering the fact that you have no hold on your own power–I suspect that your ‘training’ consists of the intent to kill and luck. In Velaris you would learn to fight and hopefully hone some of that power.”

It was this or nothing, you knew that. Either you would remain in the Dawn Court, or you would go with Rhysand and figure it out from there. Thesan’s face was now unreadable as you looked between both of the High Lords. 

“All the while I hide away so that no one knows my true identity?”

“No,” Rhysand responded. “You have matured, when you left this court you were only a girl. No one in Velaris will question you once I dim some of that power coming off of you. My inner circle knows your true identity, however to everyone else you will be ordinary High Fae. This is partially why you’ll work under Madja.”

Nodding slowly, you consider your options or lack thereof. Rhysand seemed genuine enough, you thought to yourself and could have swore he smiled slightly. Giving Thesan a once over, you met those violet eyes and nodded slowly.

“Alright, I’ll go to Velaris.” 

#azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger x reader #azriel #acotar #acotar x reader

[interpolanticssuperfan]

nothing natural | ken x fem!reader | part 2 | 18+ only

warnings: none for this chapter except reader doesn't believe that ken isn't human and asks to touch his feet to prove it. its not going to be a thing, i promise lol. enjoy !! also i really hope my characterization of ken is good so far!!

So this is how you found yourself packing up your things, throwing a cursory farewell glance to Pat, who’d long abandoned watching your tense exchange in favor of flipping through an Avon brochure, and heading down the marble staircase with Ken glued to your side, chattering away at lightspeed the entire time.

“This is excellent. (Y/N), I just knew you’d be as kind as I thought you were. And now I never have to see the bridge guy again. You don’t have a change of clothes, do you? I mean… I assume you have plenty of dresses, jumpsuits, blazers, things like that, but I could really use something that accentuates my chest a little better. Unless you like it covered up. Do you like it covered up?”

“Aren’t you sweating your ass off in those clothes? And who is the bridge guy?” You give a slight tug at the hem of his jacket, pushing open the glass double doors for the both of you and nearly gasping at the hot wall of humid air washing past, embracing your skin in a rush. 

Ken turns, locks his confused eyes with your inquisitive ones. As your hand flies away from him, Ken follows your fingers, like he’s upset that you didn’t actually touch him. “What do you mean? I feel fantastic in these. It’s my white denim. But if you… do you like them?”

“I… well, I don’t know what your chest looks like, but I’m sure it looks… great.” Your cheeks flushed as you stole an unbidden glimpse in his general direction, shouldering you as if he was convinced he’d disappear if he wasn’t essentially tethered to you. 

“You really think so? Then I’ll keep it on. I bet I can wear this for a whole week and not even get a single wrinkle. I’ve done it before, and I can do it again.” 

Without asking, you chance a risky move, placing your fore and middle finger to the back of Ken’s neck where his hair dips down. The sunlight doesn’t seem to bother him, the punishing heat isn’t making him groan with exhaustion, and to your abject horror – there’s not a bead of sweat on him: Ken’s sun-kissed skin is frigid to the touch. Rigid, he felt wax-like, resembling the mold of a man. 

In the middle of the looping sidewalk that wraps around to the block you live on, Ken freezes with a gasp, reflexively shoots his hand up to clasp around your wrist where you’re feeling him. For a moment, neither of you speak, you just allow yourself to stare into his eyes which are very much undeniably alive, bright blue with inexplicable life and bounding to chase yours, melting into your grip.

“Why aren’t you hot out here.” It doesn’t come out as a question. Ken begins to sense your hesitation, doesn’t drop his firm fingers from your hand. “It’s the middle of summer, Ken.”

You hear a passerby shove past you, can feel their leashed dog traipse by your knees, you can hear a car horn honking at traffic, but all of it feels muted, feels futile, the volume turning down on every possible source of stimulation save for Ken’s eyes, Ken’s icy cold neck.

He isn’t smiling, but he doesn’t back down from the question. “I told you. I’m not…” Ken looks upwards to the clouds, quirks an eyebrow as if drafting his response with immense care. As if he had been up there before. Like he’d never thought this hard about anything. “I’m not from here. You’re a human.”

“And you’re supposed to be – what?” 

“I don’t really know how to explain it. No one’s ever… I guess no one’s ever cared to ask me about it.” With his eyes still trained on yours, you press your fingers a little harder against a cord of muscle where a visible vein pokes out, feebly exploring for a pulse point, just to find that Ken had no heartbeat, either.

This pressure between you both seemed to pull a reaction from Ken, who at once slammed his eyes shut and sucked in a harsh breath, inching his head back and baring more of his not-skin to you. You felt that if Ken could have a pulse, it would be racing right about now. 

“Are you. Are you dead?”

You feel ridiculous. You feel faint. Your body wants to look every which way, maybe waiting for a prank show host to reveal themselves with a raucous cast and crew, pointing and laughing at the fool who fell for the “living wax figure” bit, and you’d smile for the camera and go home and forget this ever happened. (Mind destined to wonder how the hell they made their dummy so believable, so lifelike, so… alive.)

But no one came, and no one laughed, and glassy eyed Ken kept staring at you, scrambling for an answer to your loaded question.

“I don’t think so.”

“You don’t sleep?”

“Nope.”

“Do you eat?”

“Never tried. But there’s a bunch of food in Barbieland. It’s more for decoration, if that makes sense. Sorta like clothes. An apple here is very different from an apple there. Trust me.”

Sudden shakiness claiming your knees, you knew you’d have to find a place to sit soon or you were liable to fall over in the middle of the sidewalk, which would pose a massive problem for you and your new cargo (friend?) who claimed to neither sleep nor eat, let alone seemed capable of getting you medical help.

These newest revelations which you’d felt for yourself seemed to quickly overshadow the old worries which had plagued you – the stalking, the casing out your apartment, those were all old news now. 

Ken was one step ahead of you, noticed the pallor painting across your face, and without another word took your bag from your shoulder, slipping a shockingly strong arm around your waist effortlessly. “Come here. You look… really scared.” He jolted his head to find an unoccupied stretch of grass, then walked you both over to it, hand never leaving your back. 

Once you felt yourself on the ground, you were able to take a deep breath. Ken sat cross legged in front of you, your bag still strewn across his body, his face entirely drawn with intense concern. 

“(Y/N)?” The consideration in his tone was so palpable, you couldn’t help but to trust him, let him continue to keep his hand on you, just to make sure you were still with him. Black splotches had entered your vision but dissipated once you got your bearings, due in part to the reassuring feeling of Ken’s thumb pressed against the ball of your kneecap.

“I’m sorry, I. I don’t know what just happened. I didn’t mean to freak you out, Ken.” 

“You don’t have to apologize. Do you feel any better?”

In the middle of the day, broad daylight assailing your back, your cheeks, your arms, and still on the clock, you lifted your head up to address Ken. 

Ken, who had been there to help you, who had fixed you with such tenderness in his eyes and didn’t know the first thing about you. Ken, who glimmered in the sun, who waited five hours at the library by himself just for a chance at seeing you. Who had been bursting at the seams to show you a book about… horses.

“Did you really follow me home?”

Ken nodded, smile tugging at his lips. “I should have said hi. Would you have said hi back?” The way he balanced back on his tailbone revealed even more of his abdomen, his glistening muscles that managed to appear slick though they were devoid of actual sweat. Ken really did look to be covered in… well, lacquer, or some kind of perfect finish that made him perpetually shine.

“I think I would have said hi, yes. For sure. Why do you keep talking about – um. Barbie? And please be honest with me.” 

Ken didn’t miss a beat, looked down to where his thumb was still resting on your leg. “Don’t freak out again. You don’t have to worry about her, by the way – we are not a thing anymore.” He pointed tersely with his free hand. 

“That’s not what I was wondering… about.”

“I’d rather you hear it from me first, (Y/N). I’m from Barbieland. That’s what I was trying to explain before. You know Barbie and Ken? That’s me. I am Ken.” A laugh would be appropriate, but you didn’t feel like giving one. Not considering the dead serious look Ken wore as he talked, measured and severe.  

“Okay. So… okay. What does that mean? You live… like a Ken doll? Like extreme cosplay? Plastic surgery to look like him and stuff like that?” 

“I don’t know what roleplay is. I am literally Ken.” He blinks at you, waiting for the cogs to turn, waiting for it to click for you.

“A mega Ken fan.” You might be in denial still. 

Growing frustrated, Ken snatches your hand back to his lower neck, brusquely forcing your clammy fingers into the dip right above his clavicle, the base of his throat to prove his point.

“See? I don’t feel like you. Feel yours, and then feel mine. I’m not lying. Why would I lie about who I am?” With your other hand that Ken hadn’t captured, you did as he said and mirrored the motion, felt your arduous pulse, blood coursing through your veins, and felt speechless again at the sensation of nothingness coming from the guy who looked more male than any man you’d actually seen.

“I don’t know what to say. You’ve never been to a doctor?”

“Oh, Barbie is a doctor. But I haven’t needed to see her for anything in a while. She used to call me accident prone. Or attention seeking. I can’t remember which one.”

“Right. Have you ever been sick?”

“Not that I’m aware of.” Of course not.

“Broken a bone?”

“Don’t think I have those,” Ken pressed on, returning your nervous hand to your lap. He then stretched his leather-covered legs out across the gross, positioning them to the side of your knees, and started playing with the strap of your bag. “This is pretty heavy. No one carries this around for you?”

“Is it okay if I touch your leg?”

“You can absolutely touch it. But, do you think I can do that for you from now on? Carry the bag?” Ken pleaded at you with his eyes, so open and honest and innocent like a newborn fawn, and you found it impossible to tell him no. Talking with him was almost like conversing with a child, and that made your skin crawl when coupled with the knowledge that you found him overwhelmingly attractive, impossibly beautiful, even. 

Jesus, the heat must be getting to you after all.

“Sure, you can carry my bag, Ken.” 

“Yes,” Ken celebrated privately, too initially excited to notice that you’d started prodding at his shin in little tentative bursts. At first, you didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary, it just felt like… a leg. So you eyeballed his ankles, his feet where the cowboy boots sat against the grass, and Ken seemed to know what you were about to ask. “Do you wanna see my feet? Will you believe me then?”

“I know how crazy this might sound. But I think I kind of do need to see them. Is that okay?” You fought to suppress your embarrassed grin, but this only made Ken laugh.

And what a beautiful laugh he had. Boyish, charming, airy like an angel; something you wanted to keep hearing again and again until this self proclaimed “Ken” had run out of things to find funny.

Had you always been this easy?

Or was it just easy with him?

Ken bent forward immediately, removing his spotless white boots, to reveal bare, spotless feet, angled perfectly and without any sort of distinct smell. No calluses, no odd toenail, no hair. They enticed you to get closer, to touch them, but you realized how bizarre this looked and how odd Ken must feel. 

“I’m sorry, god, this is probably the weirdest day you’ve ever had, and I’m not making it any –” But as you looked up to give him this apology, Ken wore not an uncomfortable expression, but one instead of… unnamable, sober emotion. Like he was likely to break down in tears of relief the longer you regarded him with such curiosity.

“You don’t think I’m weird?” Ken asked, voice barely above a whisper. This response wasn’t what you expected, and you bit your lip, learning fast that Ken was as sensitive as he was bold. “When Barbie was here, people were awful to her at first, they were calling her horrible things and I don’t think I could…”

“I think that I have never met anyone like you. I think that… it’s insane that your feet are… I mean, can I touch them?”

This brings a hopeful spark to his face again, and he nods eagerly at your request, hungry to hear what you have to say. As if his future hangs on your opinion of him. As if he would die without your attention, good attention, bad attention, any of it. As if the prospect of being touched would save him from damnation, eternally.

All this to hold a stranger’s foot (a stranger with no heartbeat, a stranger with hypnotic blue eyes that could look so inviting looking down at you, would look even better blown open in surprise after a kiss, or – wait, why are you thinking about this?) on the grassy courtyard by a Catholic church while you’re still ignoring your work and still getting paid for every minute.

You knew there’d be more than a handful of angry emails waiting for you when you finally returned home.

But that could wait. It could all wait, because you scooted forward to cradle Ken’s bare foot in your lap, and you inspected with all the great care of a scientist inventing pharmaceuticals or something equally as important to mankind. He was right. It wasn’t like yours, his skin, his body wasn’t like anything you’d seen before. So… smooth. No hair except for Ken’s head of blonde, his arched brows. What kind of human being could live this long and not have a pimple on their face, no bumps or ridges on their feet, no scars anywhere whatsoever? You dragged your fingertips across the rounded arch, but again, nothing.

“You’re not even ticklish?”

“I’m not sure what that feels like.”

“Is Barbie ticklish?”

“I never tried tickling her.”

“You can feel me doing this, right?” Ken nodded, watched you caress him lightly, then with effort, as you squeezed tentatively. “So you can feel pressure.”

“Yeah, I can feel everything you’re doing.”

“But there’s no, like. It’s not tickling you, it’s not hurting you, it’s not. Sorry if this sounds weird, I promise I’m just trying to get information. Does it feel… good?” Something in you was begging you to just let go, stop worrying that this was probably the strangest day you’ve ever had, like you had anything else nearly as interesting going on besides quiche recipes in library magazines and buying lettuce for your guinea pig. 

Ken raises his light brown eyebrows, like he hadn’t considered this, face still content as he processed your handiwork, rotating in circles now and occasionally swiping up to his smooth ankle. The cuffs of his leather pants had rolled up and afforded you a bit of access to more skin, if you could call it that.  

“You’re the first person to touch my feet before. I don’t know… give me a second.”

“Should I stop?” Suddenly, you began to worry this might be putting Ken off. After all, you literally didn’t know him, and you’d asked him to show him your feet. Christ, you hoped he wasn’t taking you for a lunatic. You knew this was probably stupid. It was arguably unsafe – this guy had admitted to following you home. 

However, with context, you were beginning to understand this might be the only course of action that fit Ken.

“No – don’t stop. Please, keep going.” The tone he’d just used was vastly different from the others – it wasn’t quizzical, wasn’t reassuring or conversational. He sounded… pleased, voice almost cracking at the end as you pushed a little harder at where his ankle bone would be and felt none of the give a human would have, none of the pores or follicles of hair. You’d started to really start massaging him now, gently rolling your fingers across his lower shin and then moving back down to his feet, compressing him. 

How could this be real? It didn’t make any sense. You had half an idea to ask if you could try this on his neck, but when you looked up to gauge his physical state, Ken’s eyes hadn’t opened, but his mouth had fallen open in satisfaction, brows relaxed and easy. At first, he seemed peaceful, but when you stilled your breathing, you could hear him almost purring under your touch, like he’d never felt this before and wanted more – wanted something more acute. Something heightened. His chest rose and fell, mouth twitching as you worked, but you knew this was a peculiar way of getting to know someone, and you knew that Ken would probably never tell you to stop.

You gingerly laid Ken’s foot back in the grass next to his boot, and he snapped his eyes open, staring at you with a protest at the unexpected loss of contact.

“Why’d you stop?”

“I don’t know. This is weird. Am I making you feel weird?”

“(Y/N) – you’re making me feel incredible is what you’re doing. What’s that called, anyway?”

“A foot massage, I suppose. And it’s not something you typically do the first day you meet someone.”

Ken turned this over in his mind, evidently not picking up on the undercurrent of… something heavier than enjoyment he’d been displaying so openly, and put his boot back on.

“You don’t even need socks, huh?”

“Guess not. Can we do that again sometime? Maybe you can teach me how to do it for you? (Y/N), I promise I can learn really fast.” His mind racing a mile a minute, you had the good sense to rise above in this situation, regardless of how electric it felt to touch him – even if it was a little unorthodox.

You rose to stand once Ken had adjusted his (perfect) foot, and Ken held onto your bag like it was his job, clutching the strap with unnecessary force. 

“Maybe, Ken. Listen, I really need to get back to my apartment and keep working, my boss is probably furious with me. And. I also am sorry if that was weird, asking to see your feet and then… doing that. I promise I’m not a creep or anything.” Very convincing – great work, he’s sure to buy that.

“Don’t say that. Seriously, (Y/N), I do not want to hear you say that again. You’re not a creep – you’re amazing, you’re so smart – no one’s ever even been interested in seeing me like that, no one’s ever questioned that I’m a doll, so I –”

“Is that what it is?” You asked, feeling like the clouds may have parted and the word dancing on your lips the entire time finally made itself known to you. “You’re a doll?” Ken bounded to his feet in a fluid motion, something that would’ve been difficult for any normal man to do.

He made it look easy – made everything look easy.

Ken chuckled, couldn’t help but wear that irresistible grin as he waited for you to start leading the way, assuming that wherever you went, he would naturally follow. “You are so funny. I told you, didn’t I? I am Ken! That’s me.”

“That’s you.”

“That’s me, baby.”

It rolled off his lips a little too casually. It wrenched your heart to correct him – with Ken’s understanding of the world, he probably had no idea that touching someone’s bare feet in the middle of the day did not mean you were romantically involved. 

You wondered what he understood of romance. You wondered if he’d ever been touched anywhere else, what was underneath his pants, what would have happened if you hadn’t stopped massaging him, but this started to make your head spin with more ferocity than before.

“This is important, Ken, so please listen.”

“You got it.”

“People you’re just friends with – you can’t call them baby.”

“But we are friends. We are, right?”

“Yes – yes, we are friends. But baby is for when you’re with someone. You know?”

Ken chewed on this, followed you down the sidewalk even further, passing by a string of old houses.

“With someone.”

“Dating them. Seeing them. Committed and whatnot. You have that in… Barbieland too, don’t you?” It felt completely and utterly insane saying that sentence, but you were beginning to realize you’d have to stop caring about how you sounded when you talked to Ken if you wanted to get anywhere with him.

“Sort of. I meant it when I said you don’t have to worry about Barbie, okay? Don’t worry about that, (Y/N). We are just. Friends.”

This wasn’t going where you thought it would. For now, you decided to postpone educating Ken a little further on the boundaries you’d have to set – the ground rules to keep this from turning into something unfair. 

Ken smiled at your side, hated to tear away from your shoulder even to let other people pass, and for now it was enough to hear Ken call you ‘baby’ even if just once, and even if he had no idea what it really meant.

#ken #ryan gosling #ken x reader #ken x fem reader #female reader #ken barbie #barbie movie #ryan gosling ken

[thrawns-babygirl]

Hey, can i put in request for our snarky hotshot?

I saw this prompt somewhere and really liked it

“want a massage? i’ve been told that i’m..very good with my hands” and if you’re bored it can lead to some dirty dirty? If that��s the case, body worship maybe? TY soo very much <3

Sorry this took so long lmao. Moving house has been KILLING me. I loved writing this and I hope I did the prompt justice :)

And yes I will continue writing Medic!Reader. Doc is just the perfect gender neutral nickname I am a sucker for when the fic writes itself. No I will not stop and no one can make me.

Crosshair x GN!Reader

(This is my first time attempting to write an actual GN penetration fic so lemme know if it leans to heavily in one way or another. It can be read as either PiA or PiV imo)

Rating: E (18+) Warnings: Unprotected sex, creampie Word Count: 1700+

Masterlist

Crosshair was loitering again. It wasn’t an uncommon thing; he wasn’t exactly subtle about being soft on you. It was a source of constant teasing from his brothers, much to his chagrin. He was very firm about it “No I do not have a ‘crush’ on the doctor Wrecker, grow up” or “they’re just so fun to tease” which would result in knowing looks shared between his brothers as he stormed off to loiter in your office as you finished paperwork.

Today was no different.

You were hunched over your desk, trying to finish off the last of the medical reports so that you could get to sleep at a reasonable hour for a change as you were once again interrupted by the drawl of a certain handsome sniper.

“Your posture is terrible, that’s gotta be bad on your back” you look over to where Crosshair is leaning against the wall of your office, arms crossed over his chest still clad in his armor moving the ever-present toothpick in his mouth from one side to the other. Fixing him with a scowl you adjust your posture slightly before replying “Well no one is asking you to hang around and berate me about it, don’t you have someone else you would rather annoy?” he hits you with his trademark smirk “No”.

You simply sigh before getting back to your work. You try to ignore him, honestly you do, but it’s difficult. His presence is a source of constant conflict for you, he is devilishly handsome, and he knows it. He enjoys flustering you with flirtatious comments and small touches when the situation allows, he enjoys the way you blush and stumble over your words at his teasing, he enjoys it far too much.

You grunt softly as rub your back, maybe he did have a good point. Your back was sore, your eyes were tired, and you wanted nothing more than to go back to your quarters, take a hot shower and fall into your semi-comfortable bed.

“Told you so” you can almost hear the smirk in his voice as he moves off the wall towards you. You sigh and shut off your terminal before glancing over at Crosshair who is now standing behind you, looming over you with his imposing height. “I’m heading back to my quarters Cross, go find someone else to piss off” you tried to snap at him, but your voice just sounded exhausted instead as you rub your shoulders. You stand up and leave towards the direction of your room, attempting to ignore the sniper who was following you.

“You know…” he starts as you look over your shoulder at him, raising an eyebrow “I’ve been told that I’m very good with my hands, if you want a massage” you think about the offer, wondering if this is a joke or if one of you has actually taken the final step in this ‘will they wont they’ situation you’ve found yourselves in. Deciding to throw caution to the wind you simply nod and lead the way to your quarters.

Once inside you feel a little unsure of how to proceed, you never really thought either of you would take this final step towards… whatever it is that’s happening right now, and you never thought this far ahead. You decide to lay down on your bed, face in your pillows as you hear some shuffling from Crosshair behind you.

You feel Crosshair’s long toned legs against your thighs, something that is decidedly not the hard jab of plastoid and you lift your head up to look behind you only to be greeted with the sight of Crosshair in only the bottom half of his blacks straddling your thighs busying himself with a small packet of lubricant that look eerily familiar. “Did… did you swipe that from my office?” you move your head back down into the pillows to stop Crosshair from seeing your blush as he tuts “where else would I have gotten it?” you decide not to question it as you feel his hands under the hem of your shirt. “You gotta take this off doc, I need room to work” you silently follow his command as you shift and allow him to help you remove your shirt. Ignoring the burning heat in your face as you lay your head against your arms on your pillow.

You shudder slightly as you hear him open the packet and rub his hands together, successfully stifling an embarrassingly desperate moan as his hands make contact with your back. He wasn’t kidding, he is really good with his hands. You feel all your tension leave you as he runs his hands along your back, working through the knots and kinks in your muscles as you feel yourself melting into the mattress.

He works his hands lower until his fingers are digging into your hips as his thumbs work on a particularly tense area of your lower back. You fail to stifle your moan this time, you also fail to notice the sharp inhale and movement of Crosshairs hips to the sound. You’re lost in the bliss of Crosshair’s hands as he finally breaks the silence that has settled over the two of you “You know doc… I think I could get better access if you moved your pants down a little” you both know this is probably untrue, but at this point you really don’t care. The two of you have been moving around this for far too long and if this is what it takes for you to finally step over the line, you’re more than ready. You nod as you feel Crosshair’s hands snake their way under your pants and underwear, pulling them down slowly as he reveals more of your skin to him.

“You’re… stunning doc” his voice is breathy with a barely contained desire as he runs his hands down over your bare skin, running his fingers over the flesh of your ass kneading the soft skin before he leans down and starts trailing a line of kisses down your back. “You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted this… wanted you” he continues pulling your pants down further. “I need you to tell me you want this too” his voice has dropped into a breathy whisper as he speaks to you.

You raise your head slightly to look behind you, his face and chest are dusted with a light blush, his eyes are blown wide with lust and there is a very prominent bulge in his blacks. You nod, wetting your lips as you find the words “yes… yes I want this too”. You watch as Crosshair lets out a shuddered exhale and moves to find the leftover lube from the packet before placing your head back into your pillow.

“Just lie back and enjoy Doc…” his voice is husky as he returns his hands to your body, running them along your thighs up towards the swell of your ass, placing kisses along your back, his stubble sending tingles through your body as he brings his now slick fingers to your entrance. You tense slightly as he slowly pushes a single finger inside you, pumping it in and out for a bit before adding a second scissoring them slightly. “Fuuuck… you’re so tight doc… can’t wait to feel you around my cock” you shudder at his voice, the feeling of his long fingers filling you up, soft moans falling from your lips as he moves the digits in and out of your tight entrance.

You whimper slightly at the feeling of his fingers leaving you, only to take a sharp inhale as you feel him move behind you, removing the bottom half of his blacks. You steal another quick glance behind you and gasp at the sight of him.

He’s huge, long and thick with precum beading at the tip. You watch as he pours the remainder of the lube onto his length, giving himself a few strokes before leaning over you, one hand beside your head as he uses the other to line himself up with your prepped hole. You moan as you feel the blunt head of his cock press against you before slowly pressing in. The sounds he makes as he slowly feeds his length inside you are utterly sinful, a long groan of your name leaves his lips as he holds himself above you with both arms, panting softly.

“Fuck… Doc you’re so fucking tight. You take my cock so well” his voice is shaky, as if he’s trying to hold himself back from slamming his hips into yours with reckless abandon. You turn your head again and nod, hoping that he gets the hint that he can start moving.

He does, his first thrusts are slow, tentative, gauging your reactions before he begins picking up the pace at your soft moans of his name. It’s not long before he’s moving his hips into yours, ripping pornographic moans from your chest that you would probably be embarrassed about if you weren’t so thoroughly engulphed in pleasure.

“Fuck just like that, you have no idea how long I’ve been wanting this Doc… You’re fucking perfect” he lets out another long groan as he fucks you with reckless abandon, the head of his cock hitting that perfect spot inside you repeatedly, bringing you closer and closer towards your release. His rhythm begins to faulter slightly as his breathing gets heavier “where...?” his voice is strained as he holds himself back from the edge “inside” you let out one long moan of his name as your climax washes over you, your legs shaking from pleasure as Crosshair slams his hips inside of you a few more times before letting out a sinful moan as his cock throbs and he finishes inside you, filling you with his cum.

He leans down against your back as you both pant, attempting to catch your breath, both of your bodies covered in a thin layer of sweat as you bask in your afterglows. He pulls his softening length out of you before disappearing to the refresher to grab you a damp towel, throwing it at you as he places a toothpick in his mouth.

“Not a word of this to my brothers. If I have to hear ‘I told you so’ from Hunter I’ll deck him”  

@where-is-my-mind-tho @antishadow2021 @healingskywalker @crosshairlovebot@ilovestarwarsmen725 @vincentferard

#bad batch crosshair #tbb crosshair #crosshair smut #crosshair x reader #crosshair x reader smut #crosshair x you #tbb crosshair smut #bad batch crosshair smut #bad batch x reader #bad batch x reader smut #the bad batch crosshair #crosshair #tbb smut #bad batch smut #the bad batch smut #tbb x reader

[lurkingshan]

Step by Step and (lack of) emotional catharsis

I have been reflecting on the Jeng and Pat romance aspects of episode 10 of Step by Step, trying to pinpoint the source of my discontent. Because candidly, I expected to like it more than I did. They finally kissed! They started a relationship! They had several flirty, sexy scenes! Pat pinned Jeng up against a car door and climbed on his back! They made out like fiends on every available surface! I love all that stuff, and normally when I get to this phase of a romance I feel a certain happy giddiness come over me. Not so today, and I think I’ve figured out why.

Before I get into it, let me tell you what I am not doing in this post. I am not getting into the show’s already well-established pacing and editing issues. I am not predicting what comes next, nor do I care for the purposes of this post. And I am not here to talk about whether the events of today’s episode were realistic or in character. There are good discussions of all that happening already (check out this post by @shortpplfedup for a read on what’s happening with the plot), and there are ways for me to rationalize everything we saw and make it fit with what we know of these characters. 

What I am interested in talking about, however, is why despite my intellectual understanding of what the plot is trying to do, this episode felt emotionally unsatisfying from a storytelling perspective. And for me, it goes back to this:

And this:

Across nine episodes, this show slowly built up Jeng’s feelings for Pat from a crush to deep affection to ardent devotion. We saw him sink further and further into his feelings week after week. We saw him find ways to be near Pat and care for Pat. We saw him treat Pat with respect at work, make him food, watch out for his emotional and physical safety, and find ways to give him gifts. We saw him beg for the simple chance to be a safe place for him, even if he got nothing in return. And we saw his absolute devastation when Pat first failed to see him, then outright rejected his sincere feelings. We saw him cry in his baby brother’s arms because he was in so deep. We were not just told, we were shown that Jeng’s feelings for Pat are very intense, and that he wants a serious relationship with Pat. 

And so you would expect, at the culminating moment of this very slow burn, that the resolution to his arc would hold equal weight to all that came before it. You would expect a moment of catharsis where Jeng’s hurt feelings were acknowledged between them, where he and Pat finally clicked into the same emotional frequency, and where they came to some kind of understanding of how they want to either start fresh or move forward together as a couple. 

But that’s not what we got at all. Instead, the show gave us a very brief conversation in which Pat got upset with Jeng for distancing himself from him (after asking Jeng to distance himself from him) and started sobbing, Jeng looked kind of confused, said “I’m not letting you wonder anymore” (an utterly baffling line, the man has confessed like five times at this point), made a couple bemused faces as Pat continued crying while he explained the work situation, and then said “we’re together now” and went straight for a hot and heavy make out (and possibly sex on the kitchen counter).

Now, I am not at all opposed to these characters going straight to sex. Jeng has been waiting a long time, they’re horny for each other, the floodgates are finally open, congrats and have fun, you two! But I must ask, where was the emotional catharsis? Where was the narrative throughline from the devastated and confused Jeng from last week to the curiously chill Jeng of this week? Why didn’t we see a trace of hurt or frustration from him when Pat suddenly came in demanding things he had shut down so firmly before? The Jeng who was always so careful with Pat, who wanted them to understand each other, and who wanted much more than just hot sex and a good time - where did he go? 

And if we thought some of that emotional catharsis might come later in the episode, that didn’t happen either. Instead we jumped into a montage where we moved through what appears to be several months of their relationship (the timeline, as ever, is hard to follow, but Ae’s baby looks to be about four or five months old) via a series of scenes where they flirt (in front of coworkers) and have sex (including in public) while ostensibly hiding their relationship. And it really was pretty purely about sex - @neuroticbookworm pointed out to me that despite Jeng’s well-established fantasies of cooking and cleaning and caring for Pat, we didn’t even get to see any domesticity between them. It was work and sex and sex and work. The serious and devoted Jeng of the previous nine episodes became a horny boss who flirted outrageously in the office, decided to give his boyfriend an unearned promotion, and dismissed said boyfriend when he expressed concern about how all this was making him look. At no point in this episode did he seem especially attuned to Pat’s feelings as his anxiety about the office gossip grew (and recall, we had previously been invited by the narrative to notice Jeng’s attentiveness in contrast to Put’s selfishness). And when Pat tried to have a serious conversation with him, Jeng blew him off because he would rather stay in his happy sex haze bubble than deal with the reality of how his behavior is affecting Pat. 

Here’s the part where I tap the sign above again and repeat: I am not interested in debating whether this is realistic or can be read as in character for Jeng. For me, the important thing is that there was a significant disconnect between Jeng’s emotional journey through episode 9 and the emotionally lacking resolution we got in this episode. It felt like Jeng, after finally getting his chance, was treating Pat more like a fuck buddy than the faen he so desperately wanted. It felt like the Jeng we know was replaced with someone whose emotions felt lacking in the depth we’ve come to expect from him. 

I recognize that this show is not over and we may yet hit on some of these emotional beats I am craving. But we are already moving into the next phase of the story (surprise, more angst!) and this episode did mark the end of the long slow burn we’ve been on with these characters. Instead of feeling like we reached an important emotional climax when Jeng and Pat finally got together, it felt like we got two-thirds of the way up the emotional breakthrough mountain and said oh well, this is good enough, let’s take a selfie and go home.

And for me, it was a letdown.

#step by step #thai bl #shan shouts into the void

[jay7543]

This is my first post period, let alone smut so please don’t be too harsh, but I’ve seen so much of the cod stuff I really wanna make one.

M4m

Caught jerking it to you

18+ ONLY!!!

You haven’t really had a great week, your LT ghost has been avoiding you for days, normally you two have a great relationship, well, as great as it can get with him being dead silent most of the time and wearing a mask, but he’s just been walking away when he sees you or just not showing up to training at all.

Reader- “what the hell is up with him, I just wanna talk to him”

You say to yourself as you wander around the base looking for him. After making what has to be 2 fucking laps around the base you decide to check the one place he told you to never go, his room. You don’t know why he doesn’t want you in there, but considering how he acts…it’s not exactly shocking. You go around the barracks until you spot his room, 141.

Reader-“of course”

You let out a slight chuckle seeing the room number. After a few seconds of debating if you should go in or not, your thoughts are interrupted by a rhythmic slapping sound followed by some deep almost animalistic grunts.

Reader-“gho-sir? Are you ok?”

You get no response, so you decide to knock, not too loud but loud enough for someone to hear, still no response. The grunting gets louder and turns into growling, you fight back and forth in your head if you should go in before saying…

Reader-“fuck it”

You swing the door open, seeing the source of all the noises, your lieutenant, your friend, ghost, jerking off his enormous cock, to a picture of you in a swimsuit from when you had to take that specialized swimming course for one of your missions.

Ghost-“fuck love, that pretty fucking face, and that fat ass, fuck I wanna pin you the fuck down”

Reader-“ghost I-“

Your words get caught in your throat as you stare, directly at his fully erect cock, leaking pre cum, it has to be at least 8 inches, and his balls look so big and full. You start to feel a familiar stirring in your lower half, you’re getting…turned on? When he hears your voice he turn his head, eyes wide with *that* look as he puts away your picture and stuffs his cock back into his pants.

Ghost-“I-this isn’t…fuck”

He says in his thick gravelly British accent, looking away from you in shame, surprise, and still a lot of arousal.

Reader-“s-so this is why you’ve been avoiding me?”

You ask, still confused and feeling your own penis getting stiffer in your pants.

Ghost-“yeah, I-when I see you I just-I get so horny I just can’t control it, I’ve been trying my best to keep it calmed down but, I can’t”

He says quietly as he looks away, looking almost…shy? Bullshit, ghost, shy? Your eyes have to be deceiving you, especially with the monster he was swinging around a minute ago.

Reader-“well, I don’t mind…helping you. I mean-I always found you attractive, and I think it’s kinda hot that you were using my picture”

His eyes shoot back up to your face, searching for any ounce of teasing, or lying, after not finding any you swear you see his cock almost tear through his combat pants.

Reader-“Can I?”

You gesture to between his legs, after he gives you a nod you walk over and kneel between his legs. You stare at the bulge and bite your lip nervously. You pull his pants down just enough to let his huge erection and full balls spring free, his thick and musky shaft slamming down onto your face as you take a deep breath in through your nose, your own penis, pathetic compared to his, throbs in anticipation of taking him in your mouth.

Reader-“holy shit ghost, it smells so good, and it’s so fucking big”

You say as you start to kiss and lick the shaft, working your way to his tip, that’s leaking out a stream of pre cum, you take it into your mouth, making sure to lick up every ounce of the thick clear liquid swallowing it hungrily.

Ghost-“oh fuck love, your mouth is perfect”

Your penis twitches again as he calls you love, normally it’s just a name he calls you, but now, it means so much more. He puts his hand onto the back of your head, taking a fistful of hair into his hand and shoves you further down onto his thick shaft.

Ghost-“oh, I’m gonna fuck your pretty face, the face that makes me go fucking feral when I see it”

Any ounce of shyness he had when you caught him is completely gone as his dominant and rough demeanor returns as you gag and slobber on his cock. During the rough face fucking one of your hands makes its way onto his balls as you start to massage them, your other hand makes its way into your pants to stroke your own erection. Ghost chuckles

Ghost-“look at you, jerking yourself as I force your face down into my cock, from now on you’re my slut, that’s what I’ve wanted for a while and you look like you want it to.

You look up at him, your eyes watering from the assault on your throat as you make noises to answer yes to him

Ghost-“good boy, now I’m gonna cover your face in my spunk”

He picks up his pace for a bit, hitting the back of my throat every thrust, causing more tears to fill your eyes as you start to feel lightheaded. Just as you feel you might pass out, he pulls out of your throat and starts shooting his thick, creamy load all over your face. You gasp for air and moan as you feel the hot liquid cover your face, some landing on your tongue and you swallow happily. Ghost growling as every rope shoots out of his tip, his balls visibly contracting every time.

Ghost-“you look so good covered in my spunk love, even more pretty than before”

You look down at yourself, a bit of his cum dripping onto your uniform, your pants with a very visible wet spot from you cumming at some point while jerking yourself as he assaulted your throat. You stand and wipe his cum off your face and put it into your mouth, swallowing as much as possible.

Ghost-“good boy”

He growls as he watches you swallow, his cock still somehow rock hard, but he puts it away knowing you need a break. You finally catch enough of your breath to talk.

Reader-“n-next time, just tell me when you’re horny, I-I’ll gladly help, and….put it in my ass next time”

You turn around and pull out your ass and spread your cheeks, showing him your tight hole. He slaps your bare ass hard, and slips a finger in making you yelp

Ghost-“you bet I fucking will slut”

He whispers into your ear, now you can’t wait till he calls you next.

#smut #18+ only #cod x reader #simon ghost riley #m4m

[dycefic]

Ocean Burial: A History!

Howdy! My name is Olivine! I’ve been a big fan for a hot minute now, but I just wanted to let you know how much I loved your newest story about Bone Beach. Now, I am an aspiring ethnomusicologist, and imagine my surprise when I first saw one of my favorite songs in the story! I just wanted to share some information about its deep and storied history. 

Our story tonight begins many, many years ago, with a young man from New York. Edwin Hubbell Chapin was a teenager when he wrote his poem Ocean Burial, also known as Bury Me Not, while training to become a priest. Shortly after its publication (by Edgar Allen Poe’s poetry journal!), a popular sheet music writer named George N. Allen set it to music, and thusly, one of the most tragic songs of the age was born.

But its growth did not halt there. But first, I have to take a step back and give y'all a tad bit of context. I am a Southern gal, born and raised (Southern US, that is),  and I never did know any “Ocean Burial”. However, when I was just a young child, I fell in love with the mysterious, haunting ballad that my father sung to us all as a lullaby. It told the tale of a young cowpoke who laid in the prairie brush at sunset, breathing his final prayer to his companions.

“Bury me not, on the lone prairie." 

You see, Chapin’s song had grown wings and took flight far over the lands, took the leather and the iron of the cowpokes. Through the oral tradition and the ancient magic of stories among travelers, this sailing song had become a tragedy of the American cowboy. 

First published by John Lomax, sources at the time claimed that it came from the Uvalde region. Some believe that it was originally the Lohn Prairie, the name for the vast grasslands around the region. It was first recorded in the most popular version (most similar to the original, too) by Charles Sprauge, a boy hailing from Manvel, Texas, not too far from Houston. He grew up as a ranch-hand on his family’s farm, learning songs from his uncles, as well as the transient cowboys and ranch-hands who made their way on through. 

After his service in the first World War, he came home and recorded ”The Dyin’ Cowboy“ in 1925, and would go on to produce a few albums with Victor records. Tragically, his career was cut short but the Great Depression. But ultimately, he shaped American music, especially country, into what we see today. He was the original "Singin’ Cowboy”, giving rise to most every country star from Willie Nelson to Johnny Cash himself. He also had a massive influence on the rise of rock, being one of those oft-touted folk singers who “paved the road for rock n’ roll”.

Now-a-days, it still lives on. Covered by popular artists such as Colter Wall, it still lies in the heart of American folk music. However, it lives on in the spiritual sense. You see, it holds a poignance and timelessness that forever holds the grief of a life cut short. Truth be told, I do believe that Chapin, Lomax, and Sprauge would be glad that their songs have lived on in the minds of so many others, that their dying youth may forever be remembered.

Thanks for your time! I know I have a tendency to ramble, so I apologize if I went on for too long, or ended up getting too philosophical. But my words have been spoken and my tongue’s all sore, so this is it for me tonight. Have a good day, and thank you for your patience!

Check out this amazing little glimpse into the history of ‘The Ocean Burial’! I am delighted to know that I accidentally chose a song for my story with such a rich history!

#submission

[harrygoeswest]

Trigger Warnings: sweary sweary language, sexual content

Word count: 14,704

Chapters fifteen, sixteen & seventeen

eighteen

We had a few more drinks at The Swan before we called it a night, but at Harry’s house a raucous and carnal adventure began. It started in the hallway as soon as the door was closed, and reached its magnificent end on his sofa in the living room. We never stopped on our journey, even if we were not moving - the desire we had for one another just did not cease, a feat that used up every last ounce of energy until I was settled on top of him, his skin tacky and sticking to mine in every place it could find.

The room was hot, as were we, with every possible window opened to let in as much fresh air as we could, even though it was humid and uncomfortable. Somehow, it didn’t matter to me. I was blissfully unaware of the temperature and the state it brought my physical being to while I was with this man.

I was unabashedly staring at him, using my fingers to travel the lines of his beautiful face. He seemed content - he was looking at me with this tiny smile, his eyes moving over my own face while his fingers drew pictures on my naked back. I wasn’t paying attention to what he was drawing, nor did it even occur to me that I maybe should have been. If he was trying to play a silly little game, it was the last thing on my mind.

“Estoy obsesionada con tu cara.” I’m obsessed with your face, I whispered as my index finger brushed over his lips.

He seemed to take a deep breath, and his lips pulled upwards further. Around his exhale, he said, “No se que dijiste.” I don’t know what you said.

I pulled back a little, failing to hide my glee. “Muy bueno. ¿Quien te enseñó eso?”

Harry gave a small grunt. “Don’t push your luck.”

I giggled. “I said very good, where did you learn that?”

He gave an understanding hum. “That’s a secret. What did you say before that?”

“That’s also a secret.” I said, and pressed my lips tightly together.

“But now you’ve got two secrets and I’ve only got one.”

“Harry, los secretos no deberían ser como el dinero.”

He tipped his head with a frown.

“Secrets shouldn’t be used like money. It’s how problems start.”

He took another deep breath and nodded, stroking his hands up and down my back. “I see what you mean.”

“You do?”

“I do. Secrets can be transactional which, while when they’re little like ours can be irrelevant, it can also lead to trust issues and overreaction.”

“Right, yeah.” Why did he have to talk in riddles? “I think our secrets should be our own, and if one day we want to share them with each other we can, and if we don’t we shouldn’t have to.”

“Is this your way of cementing that you won’t ever tell me about the incident at the dentist?”

“Maybe.” I muttered. “But it also means you don’t have to tell me if you’re learning Spanish from a less reliable source than me.”

“What if it was your mother?”

“Then you’d be in good hands. Although I will admit I’d be jealous of you spending time with my mother over me.”

Harry cackled, squeezing my body tighter to his. “I have to admire your honesty, Floss.”

I watched him for a minute with a scrutinising look. “Is it my mother…?”

“No tienes que preocuparte.” You don’t need to worry, he said as he poked my nose, but he said it in such a way that made me suspicious it still could be my mother. 

“You need to work on your accent.” I said in rebuttal.

“So I’ve been told. Maybe that’s something you can help me with.”

“Or maybe you should just get a better teacher.”

He giggled, delighted by the sudden irritation in me. “I’m gonna tell your mum you said that.”

I gasped. “It is not my mum teaching you Spanish.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Sé que nunca te dejaría hablar con un acento tan tonto como ese.” I know she would never let you speak with an accent as rubbish as that.

“Florence, don’t be petty.” He was still quite obviously entertained.

“Querido, no tienes idea de cómo soy cuando estoy siendo mezquina.” Darling, you have no idea what I’m like when I’m being petty.

He narrowed his gaze at me, still smirking, so I did the same back to him complete with chagrin. I then rested my head against his chest to avoid the imminent neck ache I could feel manifesting, and Harry smoothed his hand over my hair.

“You’re funny when you’re grumpy.” He said in a whisper.

“Now who’s pushing their luck?” 

He giggled, his chest vibrating beneath my head. I could hear his heartbeat thumping in my ear - it was calm but a little irregular, I assumed from the delight he took on at my irritation. Still, it was a nice thing to listen to. I could’ve fallen asleep right there and then.

“I like having you here.” Harry said suddenly, words spoken after an extended period of silence. “Like this.”

I took a deep breath, the hairs on my body suddenly standing on end. For some reason I couldn’t move.

“Bought this stupid big house ‘cause I wanted Oscar to have somewhere with a lot of space to grow up in, but it can be so lonely. When you said last week that you didn’t like being alone… I really resonated with that a lot. I felt seen. But not exposed, more like understood. I finally felt like someone related to the same feelings that I did - you managed to put it into words for me. And now for us to be able to do this, and for me to be able to have another person in the house, it just feels nice. It feels right.”

I shifted my head slightly so that I could see his face, and he looked down at me with a surprisingly ambivalent expression.

“Well, I’m glad I could help in some way. If you stop teasing me about my mother I might come over more often.”

“I’ll never tease you about anything ever again if you stay here with me next Friday as well?”

“I will come over every Friday until the end of time if you keep to your word, just… not next Friday.”

He pouted.

“Geri’s kind-of-but-not-really emergency girl's night?”

“Oh yeah,” he sighed. “Two weeks… that’s a long time to wait for you.”

“You’ve waited longer.”

“But it’s different now.” He whined. “I want you all the time.”

“Well… maybe we could have a lunch date in the week?”

He smirked. “Like a naughty lunch date?”

My mouth fell. “Is that all I am to you? A tool for your pleasure?”

“That’s not all you are to me. But I do rather enjoy it…”

I rolled my eyes. “Rather than thinking about when you don’t have me, why don’t you make the most of my company now?”

He nodded fervently. “I can do that.”

In the next breath his lips were on mine, and while I hadn’t meant him to take it quite so literally, I certainly wasn’t going to push him away. Not when I enjoyed drowning in him so much.

I don’t know how long we were like it - just kissing and groping like the world was close to ending -, but it was some time. I was wired up, fired up, and ready to be filled up. My core was sweating with anticipation and I was ready to take him the way we both really wanted to. I was on top of him now, his shaft between my legs but not inserted, and causing all kinds of problems to my state of mind.

“Fóllame de todas las formas posibles,” I was breathless and eager as I spoke, clinging to him with every limb I could.

“You’ve said that before.” He heaved into my mouth.

“I’ve also told you what it means.” I said against his lips, eating at them like an ice-cream.

“You might have to tell me again.”

You’d think with it being such a dirty phrase he might’ve retained the meaning, but apparently not. “F-,”

My phone began to ring from wherever I’d abandoned it when entering the house. I pulled away, a little startled, and looked towards the front door.

“Leave it.” Harry begged, his kisses moving down to my throat.

They made me delirious, and I was very close to ignoring the call to carry on with our salacious adventure. But I refrained.

“I can’t, what if it’s Ruby?”

Harry sighed, nodding as he dropped his head against my chest. “No, you’re right.”

I took hold of his face and pressed my lips to his, and then clambered off him to retrieve my phone from its hiding place. The stone floor in the kitchen was a shock to my bare feet.

I just missed the phone call, but it was from my parents’ home phone. I immediately called it back. Harry appeared just then wrapped up in a blanket, and wrapped it around me so that we were cocooned inside together. I laid my head on his chest again.

“Mummy?” Ruby answered on the second ring.

“Ruby?” I asked, looking at the time on my phone. It was nearly midnight. “What are you doing up so late, are you alright?”

“Mummy, I can’t sleep.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, poppet. Where’s Grandma and Grandad?”

“They’re asleep. Grandma didn’t feel very well so she went to bed and Grandad looked really tired so we had to go early too and now I can’t sleep. But I don’t want to wake them up, not if Grandma isn’t very well.”

“That’s really good of you, Rubes, well done. But you really need to go back to bed and try to get some sleep. Can you do that for me?”

“I tried, Mummy, but I’m scared. Can’t you come and stay with me? I don’t want to be on my own.”

I took a deep breath and looked at Harry. He cocked his head at the sad expression on my face. “Yeah, I can come to you. I’ll be there really soon, alright? But you need to be in bed when I get there.”

Harry slowly nodded, apparently understanding what was happening.

“Okay, Mummy. Thank you.”

“No problem. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

I put the phone down and sighed, resting my forehead against Harry’s chest.

“What’s the matter with her?” Harry asked softly.

“She can’t sleep, and it sounds like Mum and Dad are sick so I should probably go and keep her company.” I met his gaze again. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. She’s your baby - nothing more important than that.”

“We can definitely have that lunch date in the week to make up for it.”

Harry smiled. “You’ve got yourself a deal, señorita.”

I giggled and gave him a gentle kiss. 

“I’ll walk you down to the house.” He said against my mouth.

“You don’t have to do that, it’s not far.” I shook my head, pulling away and out of our little cocoon to collect my discarded clothes.

“I don’t care if it’s not far, it’s the middle of the night and I don’t want you out walking alone.”

I stared at him for a minute, a little taken aback by the sternness in his voice. “Okay.”

He nodded once and smiled. “Good.”

No more than ten minutes later, Harry and I had walked along the main road the short distance to my parents’ house on the square that wasn’t a square. We shared one last goodnight kiss before he left, and I let myself into the house as quietly as I could. 

Downstairs it was quiet and dark, although the shadows that lingered on the walls from my mother’s many trinkets and collectibles were still as creepy to me as an adult as they were when I was a child. I made my way upstairs, and the lamp in Ruby’s bedroom was turned on. She was in bed like I’d asked her to be, facing the door with her eyes wide open. Bongo was curled up fast asleep in his dog bed in the corner of the room. I shut the door behind me.

“Hola, querida.” I whispered.

“Hola, máma.” She replied in a quiet voice.

“¿Cómo estás?”

“No buena. My brain won’t go to sleep.”

“I’m sorry, poppet.” I sighed, stroking my hand over her soft hair. “What’s on your mind?”

“I don’t even know. I… I feel like everything is going to change and I don’t like it. I like things the way they are now - just me and you, and Grandma and Grandad and Bongo, and living here and doing the things we do together. I don’t want that to change.”

“Oh, baby. You don’t need to be scared - sometimes change can be a good thing. And I’m not saying that things are going to change. I certainly don’t intend on moving you away from here, or from your grandma and grandad. But take Oscar, for example. You didn’t see him coming and now he’s one of your best friends. That’s a change for good, isn’t it?”

“Yeah… But Oscar is different. He hasn’t changed my life, not really. He’s just in it now, when he wasn’t before. I don’t want someone to come and ruin the way we do things. I want to keep it this way forever and ever.”

This felt like a very mature conversation to be having with a seven-year-old. It also felt like a bit of an insult to Oscar and the friendship he’d provided for her, but who was I to argue. I was going to have to tread very carefully with my words. “Well, I can tell you that, for now, nothing will change. As far as I can see, nothing has to change for the foreseeable future. Everything will stay as it is. I promise.”

“You do?”

“I do. Now, I need to go and find some PJs from my old room. Can you wait two minutes for me to come back?”

“Okay.”

“Good girl.” I said, and kissed the top of her head.

In my old bedroom, I found an old t-shirt that I forgot even existed - a tie-dye red, yellow and turquoise Red Hot Chilli Peppers crop top. Never mind using it just as a pyjama top for the night, this was coming home with me tomorrow. I paired it with some old PJ shorts that clashed so much they’d make your eyeballs bleed. Apparently 16-year-old me thought that was a really good look.

I opened the window in Ruby’s room when I returned, and slipped under the covers beside her. It was perhaps a little too warm in there, but for the sake of my daughter’s sanity, I would suffer through it for the night. She was asleep within ten minutes.

In the morning I woke before Ruby, and I could hear one of my parents moving around downstairs, so I went down for an early breakfast. My mother was tidying the kitchen up after last night’s dinner.

“Buenos días.” I said quietly so as not to startle her, and sat at the table in the window.

My mother looked over her shoulder with a frown, and did a double take. “Buenos días… ¿Qué estás haciendo aquí? ¿Tu cita con Harry no fue bien?” What are you doing here? Did your date with Harry not go well?

“No… mi cita con Harry iba muy bien.” No… my date with Harry was going very well. “Ruby me llamó a medianoche diciendo que no podía dormir. Así que lo acortamos.” Ruby called me at midnight saying she couldn’t sleep. So we cut it short.

“Oh… lo siento, querida.” My mother pouted, stroking my cheek with the back of her hand. “I guess this is what the struggles of dating with children will be like.”

I hummed, my chin in my palm.

“Was Harry alright?”

She’d continued in Spanish, so I did too. “Yeah, he walked me here. I guess with having a child of his own he understands that they come first. We had a good evening regardless, it hasn’t changed anything.”

“Well that’s good. I honestly think you’ve hit a gold mine with that one - he’s a saint.”

“Mm… all men have their flaws.” I said dryly.

“What’s his?”

“He drives a Range Rover.”

“Oh,” my mother scoffed and swatted my arm with the tea towel in her hand.

I laughed, delighted with myself. “Bromeo, todavía no lo he encontrado.” I’m joking, I haven’t found it yet.

“Your father’s is that he constantly says he’s going to fix something and then never bloody fixes it. Or still, after 40 years of marriage, leaves the toilet seat up. Or doesn’t lock the shed door when he’s finished with it.”

All of those things seemed very discernible rather than complex. “Well, 40 years down the line and you’re still married to him, so he can’t be that bad.”

She sighed and leaned against the kitchen counter. “You’re right - he’s not that bad at all.”

“Anyway, what were you going to do with Ruby today?”

“She was coming to the salon with me, wasn’t she?”

“Oh shit, yeah.” We both needed haircuts. “She might still want to do that.”

“Well, we can ask her when she wakes up.”

So, we did. I helped my mother make a big breakfast for the four of us, which easily roused my sleeping daughter and father. Ruby sank an entire glass of orange juice as soon as she sat down she was that dehydrated, and practically hoovered up her breakfast. At least I could always count on her appetite.

“Ruby, what do you want to do today - do you want to stay with me for the day at the salon?”

“Yeah! Can Bongo come?”

“Of course he can.”

“Mummy, will you be coming?” Ruby asked.

I took a deep breath. “I don’t know, poppet. It wouldn’t be very useful of me to be there, to be honest, so probably not.”

“Oh… but can I still go?”

“Of course you can - I can pick you up later? I’ll need to come back for a haircut after all of Abuela's appointments are finished anyway.”

“Okay!”

While Ruby was finishing up downstairs, I headed upstairs to have a shower and get dressed. I texted Harry while I was changing.

Floss 09:41 Did you have any plans today?

I waited for a response while I sorted my hair out, but never received one. Eventually, my phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Are you running away from your child?”

“Ha ha.” I said bluntly, and then spoke as quietly as I possibly could. “No, she wants to go with my mum for the day, so I’m free until about half four.”

He hummed, a short and thoughtful noise. “I think I know lots we can do in that space of time.”

“That’s good - you can tell me later.”

“Do you want me to pick you up?”

“I need to go home and change first - all I’ve got is yesterday’s clothes and a t-shirt from when I was a teenager.”

“What t-shirt is it?” He asked, flirting.

“I think you’d like it. It’s a crop top.”

“Will you wear it today?”

I laughed and immediately regretted it. “Not today, no. Maybe some other time.”

He sighed, the sound of faux disappointment. “Fine. I’ll be at yours in half an hour?”

“Sounds good.”

I collected my things and made my way downstairs - everyone was still in the kitchen. 

“Mummy, what were you laughing at?”

“Zara - she said something daft. Right, I’m going to head home to change and then run some errands. I’ll be back later to come and get you from the salon, okay?”

“Okay. Will you be going shopping?”

“Maybe… or I might save that for later so we can go together.”

“If you go before you pick me up, can you get me some sweets?”

“Oh, yes.” I said with a grin, and pecked the top of her head. “What sweets would you like?”

“Um…” she put her finger to her pursed lips, like a caricature in thought. “Surprise me!”

I giggled. “Alright, my darling, I will do that. Be a good girl for Abuela, okay?”

“Yes!”

“Buena. I’ll see you all later on.”

My small family said their goodbyes to me, and I quickly departed the house to walk home. 

It was another hot day, which meant another tear-up of my wardrobe to find something appropriate to wear. I didn’t know what Harry was thinking for us to do if he wanted to pick me up, but I assumed it meant escaping Bibury for a few hours, which I was more than okay with. Whatever it was, I’d be with Harry, which meant it could only be perfect.

nineteen

Harry picked me up as we arranged, wearing the same cream linens as yesterday with a white vest and a weird kind of pale blue Hawaiian shirt. I’d never looked at him and immediately thought ‘dad’ until now. He leaned over the centre console to give me a kiss once the door was closed, pushing his sunglasses into his hair first.

“Long time, no see.” He joked.

I laughed as I clipped in my seatbelt. “Gonna be like this for a while, I think. At least until Ruby is over whatever weird spot this is that she’s in.”

He hummed, pulling off. “We’ll manage.”

He drove us out to the Sherborne Estate and parked up a little out the way. I thought we’d be doing the same walk as I had done on Ruby’s birthday, but when Harry pulled a picnic basket out of his boot I grew a little confused. There was no way we’d be carrying that around with us for hours.

“I know a little spot.” He said with a smirk when he noticed the look on my face.

I lifted my head slightly. “Okay.”

I hoped his ‘little spot’ wasn’t far, because I was not wearing suitable clothing for a long walk. I had on a blue and white vertical pinstripe skirt that barely reached my knees, a white cropped t-shirt with a peach embroidered on the breast and some white hi-top Converse.

He took my hand to lead the way, in the opposite direction to where I would usually go. I supposed that was a good sign.

Harry led me through the trees that lined the estate, taking extra caution to keep me on my feet; ensuring I didn’t fall on my face. At this point we both knew it was a very high possibility that that might happen. The sun shone through the treetops so that everything had a golden glow and a lushness to it. The floor was covered in bluebells and thick ferns, spread wide and far right to the edges of the woodland.

Only a few minutes into the woods Harry stopped, picked the biggest bluebell he could find and handed it to me. The sentiment made me blush, and he pressed a kiss to my temple when I didn’t immediately say anything.

We walked a little further, in a direction that was completely lost on me. I was hoping and praying that wherever we went, that by the time we were home I wouldn’t be covered in grass stains and stinger rashes. If I’d have known we were going walking in the woods I would’ve put my jeans on.

The trees and grass grew thicker the further in we went, brushing around my ankles and my knees so that it tickled like feathers. I clung onto Harry’s hand as if my life depended on it, my gaze permanently fixed on the floor.

After maybe 20 minutes of walking, Harry suddenly stopped. I looked at him with a frown, but he didn’t meet my gaze. He just pulled back a thick mass of green leaves and dark branches and nodded me onwards.

“Tú primero, querida.” You first, darling, he said, and even though he wasn’t looking at me, I could still see that proud grin on his face.

I rolled my eyes and squeezed around his broad frame through the bristly bushes.

I found myself, somehow, inside a small, grove-like clearing. It was bright and open, no trees above us, filled with colourful wildflowers and bright green grass. There was a single park bench at the far end almost lost to the greenery around it, so it was obviously a known part of the estate, but there was no one else here. It was just Harry and I.

“Como demonios…” I muttered to myself as I stared around the private sanctuary, utterly bewildered. How had I lived here my whole life and not known that this place existed until now?

“What d’you think?” Harry asked, an excited lilt to his question.

“Er,” I laughed once, breathy, “I think it’s a pisstake that I’ve lived here forever and never knew this was even here, and that I’m being shown to it by an outsider.”

“An outsider?” He giggled. “Is that what you think of me?”

“Well, you’re not a local.” I argued.

“No, perhaps not. But I was married to one.”

His comment stunned me. That was the first time I’d heard Harry so much as mention Lottie since I’d known him. It seemed to come from him so easily that it took me by surprise.

“What?” He asked when I didn’t say anything. “Does that not count?”

I cleared my throat. “Oh, er, no, that’s not what I meant.”

“Do you not like it?”

Christ alive, Florence, get a grip.

“No!” I stressed, turning to face him. “I love it, it’s beautiful. I just can’t get over the fact that I didn’t know about it.”

“It is signposted.” He chuckled as he placed the basket on the ground.

I’d obviously missed that.

“Will you be happy with a picnic here?”

“God yes.”

Harry and I set up our picnic in the middle of the little grove, consisting of finger sandwiches, an abundance of deli meats and cheeses, more fruit than I knew what to do with and a half-bottle of champagne I couldn’t possibly try and pronounce the name of. His picnic blanket was made of a tartan fleece material and had a lining on the underside that was covered in sand. He’d obviously taken it to the beach with him at some point. I tried not to imagine the sand somehow finding its way into my shoes and between my toes. The mere thought made me want to cringe.

“There’s no way you had time to make all this up before you picked me up…” I said as I took a bite out of a salmon and cream cheese sandwich.

“What if I did?” He challenged.

“Well, you obviously didn’t.”

He chuckled. “No, I was hoping we’d get to do this anyway, so I made it up yesterday before I collected Oscar from school. If for some reason we couldn’t have it, I’d have just taken Oscar to the park and we’d have had it there instead.”

“Oh…” I pursed my lips. “Feel like I’ve kind of ruined your day with Oscar. That would’ve been nice.”

“Don’t talk bollocks.” He shook his head. “I did this for you.”

I tried to hide my smile and failed. “You did a good job. I’m a very happy girl.”

“Good.” He grinned, and leaned over to kiss my lips. “And, by the way, I really like your outfit.”

I looked down at myself. “You do?”

He nodded. “Look like you’re about to step onto Centre Court at Wimbledon.”

I was confused. “Don’t you have to wear loads of padding and funny hats at Wimbledon?”

He blinked at me a couple of times, equally confused. “Are you thinking about cricket…?”

“Is that not what they play at Wimbledon?”

Harry giggled. “No, Floss. Tennis is played at Wimbledon.”

“Oh,” I whined and hid my face in my hands. I should know that - my mother loves Freddie Flintoff. Un hombre tan fornido… she’d sigh out anytime he appeared on the telly, which roughly translated to ‘such a strapping man’. Dad would then grumble and call him a prick.

We carried on eating, with me trying extra hard at not saying anything else stupid while we chatted about our children and our work. I ended up lying on my back as I listened to him tell me a story about one of Oscar’s first accidents when he was around two. Lottie wasn’t present in the story but I couldn’t figure out if it was because she just wasn’t there, or because he didn’t want to mention her in the context, or because she’d already passed away. I guess Lottie wasn’t really integral to the story, but my mind did drift to her a lot.

By the end of his anecdote, Harry’s head was in my lap, both of us with our eyes closed because the sun was so bright, and I had one hand stroking through his hair while he held my other in his own. It was quiet apart from our light chatter - you couldn’t hear anything for miles apart from the odd bird and maybe a slight irregular breeze. I couldn’t remember ever feeling a peace like it.

I sat up on my elbows at one point, feeling the urge for a strawberry. I found the packet, keeping Harry where he was as I fished a few out and into my hand, and took a bite out of the largest one I had. I could feel his eyes on me, and I didn’t shy away from looking at him.

“Can I have one?” He asked in a near whisper.

I had a strong urge to say no, but refrained. “Of course.”

I took the next largest strawberry and fed it to him, his hand still around my wrist and his eyes still on mine. He ate the whole thing down to the stalk, and when he was done his lips were smattered with pink juice. It all felt kind of erotic, and I couldn’t help myself as I leaned over him and pressed my lips to his, kissing the strawberry juice away. His mouth tasted sweet over everything else, and I wanted to stay with him like that, with my mouth on his mouth, for the rest of the day. We kissed like that for a long time - him with his head in my lap and me folded over him, my right hand stroking his chest while my left played with his hair -, until I was uncomfortable and practically inviting back ache to pay me a visit.

Eventually we switched so that Harry was on his back and I was lying on top of him. Our lips never parted, at least not until I could feel something (you know the thing) between my legs and I wanted, no, needed, to taste that instead. I kissed my way down his front, pushing his unbuttoned shirt aside and lifted his vest up so I could marvel at his body. I kissed every inch of his chest, and I left a nice little love bite just under his right pectoral.

The whole time, Harry was talking in whispers - I couldn’t understand what he was saying and I wasn’t entirely sure he’d registered what I was doing.

I continued on down the length of his body until I was between his legs and my teeth were grazing his lower abdomen. He groaned loudly when I started brushing my palm against his crotch and lifted his head up.

“Are you really gonna do that here?” He asked breathlessly, but it wasn’t a defensive question. It was more like shock.

I had momentarily forgotten where we were, but considering I’d basically already tried to do this once before, when we were walking Bongo in the field behind my house, I was surprised he had to ask. Nevertheless, “Do you want me to do it here?”

“I really want you to do that here.”

I think I was smirking, but I couldn’t be sure. I continued showing his abdomen, which was very beautifully defined and toned, by the way, the attention it deserved while I unbuttoned and unzipped Harry’s linens. He was hard when I took him out, throbbing in my hand, warm to the touch and a kind of iridescent pink in colour. It made my mouth water.

And so, in the middle of that luscious grove I’d never heard of, surrounded by beautiful wildflowers and tall grass and with the sun at its highest and hottest, I gave Dr Styles head until he was writhing and ready to go. His hands were in my hair, holding it out of the way and tucking it behind my ear. It became so hot that I had to tie it up at one point. I also had my fingers in his mouth more than once, his tongue licking its way around my digits like they were an ice cream. We were making the most obscene noises - if anyone did discover us like that I would be mortified, but I was equally excited.

I can’t quite remember if he stopped me or if I stopped myself, but I do remember him sitting up a little to pull me towards him, my legs straddling his hips.

“Please tell me you have a condom?”

He smirked. “There’s one in the picnic basket somewhere.”

Without taking myself off him in the slightest, I leaned over to rummage through the basked one-handedly. I found it tucked away in one of the pockets that had the side plates in it, and I ripped it open, took it out of the foil and rolled it down Harry’s length. Then, I lifted my bum up, holding Harry’s dick in one hand and readjusting my underwear with the other. I didn’t even take my knickers off, I just moved the seat aside and sank down onto his thick length.

That familiar unified groan oozed out of us, and Harry sat up while he waited for me to adjust to him. He propped himself up on one hand, the other placed at the back of my head above the nape of my neck with a somewhat rough grip. His kiss was greedy and sloppy and he grunted into my mouth with such menace that I was getting wetter by the second.

I started rolling my hips over him, and I told him to lie back at the same time. He seemed reluctant, but he did what I said. As I rocked back and forth over him his hands travelled my thighs and my chest like an eager sea captain. He slipped them under my t-shirt to fondle my boobs, and I gripped his wrists when he did so. 

My pace grew faster and faster, Spanish words tumbling out of my mouth in high-pitched and breathless succession.

“Me haces sentir tan jodidamente bien.” I said, followed by, “Nunca me había sentido así antes.” To him and his basic knowledge of Spanish, that would sound like… well, not very much at all. I felt like I was opening up the floodgates. My head was rolling as if my neck were broken, I could barely concentrate.

Harry lifted his arse off the ground in time with the rolling of my hips, his length pushing deeper inside of me. His hands lowered to my bum, squeezing and gripping in silent encouragement to go faster. “Tell me what you’re saying.” He begged.

“Santa mierda,” Holy fucking shit, I hissed, a reaction to his movement.

“That’s a naughty saying.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. Of course he somehow managed to retain the swearing phrases. I doubt he’d been taught them by his elusive Spanish teacher. “The fact that you know that tells me you’re not taking your lessons seriously.”

“I take them very seriously.”

I looked down at him and he was just watching me - his head in amongst the pretty grass, hair a knotted mess and body writhing with pleasure. His skin had a glowing sheen to it, hairline a little damp in the same way his chest glistened with sweat. He looked gorgeous. I wanted a picture of him like that, and I’d probably put it somewhere completely inappropriate, like the ceiling above my bed.

“What did you say?” He asked again.

“I said I’ve never felt this way before.”

He seemed to let the air leave him, tight chest relaxing. “Me neither.”

That made me smile. I wrapped my hands around both his wrists, and I forced one of his hands under my top to play with my tits again, and then with the other, I put his fingers in my mouth.

“Jesus Christ,” He muttered, watching me with an extreme intensity that I felt like I was suddenly performing. But I liked it.

I wet his index and middle finger until I was satisfied, a string of saliva following them when I took them out of my mouth, and guided them to between my legs. He did exactly what I needed him to, and rubbed against my clit in a way that made me squirm because it felt that fucking good.

Barely a minute later, the two of us unravelled together in the hot early summer afternoon, and I collapsed on top of him, heaving from exhaustion. He kissed me, slow and tender, until I got my breath back and he wasn’t so amped up. 

Harry cleaned himself up while I ate the rest of the sandwiches. Apparently shagging in the middle of a field can work up an appetite. Who knew? After we were completely done eating we packed everything up and walked back to the car, hand in hand and a little smitten.

“Can we still do lunch in the week?” Harry asked. I was holding his hand, keeping it in my lap as we drove back into Bibury.

“Sure,” I said, looking over at him with a smile, “what day?”

He pursed his lips. “How about Tuesday?”

“Sounds good to me. Just let me know on the day what time and I’ll come to you.”

Harry grinned, and he brought my hand up to his lips and kissed the back of it. “Deal.”

I turned slightly in my seat, resting my head against the backrest while I watched him. He’d calmed his tousled hair on our walk back and he looked a lot less flush in his face. He concentrated on the road, but occasionally, when he felt it was safe, he’d glance my way. That was another photo I wanted to take and keep, so I did. I fished my phone out from between my thighs and I took a picture of him like that. He didn’t even blush.

“That gonna be your new phone background?”

I gave a bitter laugh. “Only if you’re happy with Ruby murdering you.”

He shrugged. “Would be alright. I think I peaked today with what we just did.”

“You think that’s peaking?”

“Well, for now. There are… other things I’d like to do with you. But I don’t think you’ll let me anywhere near you in a dental room. Basically what I’m trying to say is that if I died today I’d die happy.”

I gave him a scrutinous look. “I don’t think that’s true, is it?”

“Why not?”

“Oh, I don’t know… Oscar?”

Harry pressed his lips together. “Yeah, alright. That’s fair.”

Harry dropped me off at home so I could change, and then I drove around to Mum’s salon to get my hair done and take Ruby shopping.

“Hola, querida,” My mother grinned at me as soon as I walked in the door.

“Hola, mamá.” I said, pecking her cheek as I passed. She was doing Ruby’s hair, putting it into plaits while wet. “Hola, mi amor.” I said to Ruby as I sat down in the chair next to her.

She grinned but didn’t say anything or move her head. She’d probably been told to sit very still.

“¿Entonces que hiciste?” What did you do, then? Mother asked me.

“Fui de picnic con ya sabes quién.” Went for a picnic with you know who.

She smirked, tied the last of Ruby’s braids with a tiny elastic band, and then looked straight at me. “Parece que la pasaste bien.” You look like you had a good time.

I narrowed my eyes at her. “¿Sentido?” Meaning?

“Parece que te han arrastrado a través de un seto hacia atrás.” You look like you’ve been dragged through a hedge backwards.

I screwed my face up at her.

“Me alegra que te diviertas. Te lo mereces.” I’m glad you’re having fun. You deserve it.

“Abuela, can I get up now?” Ruby asked.

“Sí, querida. Vamos.”

Ruby stood up from the chair, and I stood too.

“Do you want to wash your hair?” My mother asked me.

I shrugged. “I don’t need to.”

“Alright, sit down then.” She nodded to the chair. “I’ll just give it a trim, yeah?”

“Por favor.”

“Mummy, did you get my sweets?” Ruby asked, sitting beneath the vanity table between my feet.

“I didn’t have time to go shopping, muffin. But we can go together now and you can pick something really naughty for dinner. How’s that sound?”

“Oh, yes! Can we do hot dogs?”

“If that’s what you want to do we absolutely can. And you can pick a new film to watch as well, yeah?”

My mother pulled my hair. She knew I was probably buttering her up.

“Yay!”

“Oh,” Mum leaned over my shoulder, “they’ve announced the dates for the county fair. It’s the weekend the kids break up for school - you should get together with Geri and Harry and arrange to go.”

Ruby was already looking at me, a blank expression on her face. I tried to play my worry off as nothing. “What do you think, Rubes? Do you want to go to the fair this year with Milly and Oscar?”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“¿Qué quieres decir, tal vez?” What do you mean, maybe? My mother scoffed. She only said full sentences in Spanish with Ruby when she was irritated. “They’re your friends - don’t you want to go with them?”

“I do.”

“So why ‘maybe’, then? Aye? What’s all this ‘maybe’ nonsense?”

My daughter mumbled something, looking at the floor.

“I can’t hear you, Ruby.”

I didn’t very often hear my mum take a stern tone like that with Ruby.

“I don’t want Oscar’s daddy to go.”

I rolled my head back and took a deep breath. Ruby’s random and sudden dislike for Harry was beginning to upset me. Quite a lot. I could see things with Harry going a long way, and it would be a real shame if it couldn’t go any further than what we were doing now - sneaking around and behaving like teenagers - because Ruby didn’t want me to have a partner.

“And why not?” My mother demanded. “What has Oscar’s dad ever done to upset you?”

Ruby looked at me, then at her abuela, and then back to me. I knew what she was saying, without saying anything at all. And I also knew that if she did say it, my mother would lose her temper.

“Ah, come on.” I said, brushing my hand to try and make light of the subject. “It’s alright. We can just go on our own, can’t we Ruby?”

My daughter looked at the floor again and started playing with her feet.

“Ella se está volviendo egoísta, Florence.” She’s getting selfish, Florence.

“Ella está aterrorizada por el cambio.” She’s just terrified of change, I argued.

“El cambio es una parte natural de la vida. No puedes seguir mimándola porque es tu bebé.” Change is a natural part of life. You can’t keep coddling her because she’s your baby.

I knew my mother was right. We were both right, to some extent. Ruby needed to learn that in life things change when you least expect them to, even if we don’t like them. I also knew that she was the only thing I had - she was my entire world and I hated seeing her upset. But sometimes we have to upset the ones we love because it’s for the better.

Eventually I would have to tell Ruby that Harry and I were seeing each other. We hadn’t broached that subject with each other yet, but it was coming. I had no desire to see other people, and from what I could understand, he didn’t either. And whenever the time came to tell Ruby, she would just have to accept it.

twenty

Ruby was very quiet with me for that whole following week. I was somewhat offended, considering I wasn’t the one who’d challenged her on her opinions of the not-so-new dad in town. I was hoping that perhaps she’d change her mind about how she was feeling after the dressing-down from her abuela, but I knew that was optimistic of me. The only way Ruby would be changing her opinion was if it came from her own volition. She really was Latina in that way.

She spent most of her time in her room when we were at home, and I could never really hear much from her. Every time I went to put her to bed she was already in it and fast asleep, or if I went to check on her she would just mumble something incoherent and turn away from me.

It all escalated again on Tuesday.

I had to cancel my lunch date with Harry because I had too much to do and not enough time to do it. Unusually I was the first one to the school to pick Ruby up. I think that was a combination of both manic clock-watching to make sure I left on time and trying to get into my daughter’s good books.

Geri arrived shortly afterwards and started talking about Friday.

“We’ll be there straight after work, mate, don’t worry.” I said calmly, Geri thinking Zara and I had forgotten. Well, Zara might have done, but I hadn’t.

“Okay, good. ‘Cause I’ve bought a fuck load of alcohol and I intend to drink it. Preferably with the two of you, but I will do it alone if I have to.”

I gave Geri a concerned look. I hadn’t forgotten the conversation I’d overheard between her and Owen at Ruby’s birthday party. That felt like a lifetime ago, but it was there, in the back of my mind. Something else must’ve happened. “I promise you we’ll be there. Can’t have you drinking alone on a Friday night.”

“Well, you do it all the time.”

How rude.

In the next minute Harry’s car pulled in, and I tried my best not to behave like a teenage girl at the sight of her crush walking down the corridor. Geri was talking about my Friday nights and how dull they must be with Ruby at my parents and being alone in my home. I couldn’t wait to shatter that little imaginary scenario when I told her about Harry. I could tell my friends about him - that didn’t bother me at all.

When Harry approached us he stood on my right, and I felt him brush his finger along a short length of my arm. My hairs stood on end as he did and I tried not to shiver.

“Harry, will you tell Floss here that it’s not healthy to spend Friday nights alone every week.” Geri demanded.

I scowled at her, and then turned my attention to the dentist.

He looked at me with a kind of charged smile. “Geri’s right - that’s not healthy.”

“Thank you, Harry.”

“How I spend my Friday nights is nobody’s business.” I retorted.

“Well, you’re welcome at my house anytime, Floss.”

I whipped my head around and glared at him. He seemed perfectly at ease and it irked me. Were we children now? Why was I being teased? Why was Harry joining in?

Milly appeared in front of us then, and there were no other children even on the playground or remotely visible anywhere. How was she always the first one out the doors? Did she teleport here?

“Hello, darling.” Geri said breathlessly.

“Hi.” Milly smiled.

“Ready to go?”

She nodded, and so Geri took her hand and started walking away. “I’ll see you on Friday night, Florence!”

I rolled my eyes and gave her an irritated wave. Harry started giggling, so I smacked his arm.

“Ow.”

“If there’s anything you need to learn, it’s that you shouldn’t wind me up.” I warned him.

“Why don’t you just tell her we’ve been seeing each other?”

“I will be. On Friday. When Zara is also present.”

“You haven’t told Zara?”

“No, we have this rule. If we have news all three of us have to be there to share it. One isn’t allowed to know before the other.”

Harry’s brows lifted, and I was convinced he thought we were mental. We were, actually, a little bit mental.

“I’m sorry about lunch, by the way. I was really excited this morning and then a billion cars turned up and ruined it for me.”

“It’s alright,” He said with an easy smile, and his fingers were stroking up and down my arm again, “things like this are gonna happen, aren’t they?”

I gave him a solemn nod. “Do you want to try again tomorrow?”

He appeared to wince. “I think for now we should just ditch the idea of lunch dates. I was being greedy - it’s not going to work. I’ll just have to wait until next week, won’t I?”

I grunted. “Unless you somehow manage to convince Ruby you’re an angel so we can have dinner together, yes. We’ll just have to wait.”

“But I am an angel.”

“No you’re not.” I said, turning back towards the playground.

Ruby and Oscar were walking together, but they weren’t behaving like they usually did. Well, Oscar was. Ruby appeared to still be sulking. The two approached us together, but Ruby didn’t stop walking once they’d reached us. She carried on marching all the way up to the car.

I sighed and rubbed my cheek.

“Is she alright?” Harry asked, concern very apparent in his tone.

“No.”

“Why, what happened?”

I shook my head. “She got a bit of a telling-off from my mum on Saturday and she’s just been like this ever since.”

“That’s not like Ruby. Or your mum…”

“Tell me about it. But she’s not talking to me, either.”

Harry was silent for a moment, and I wondered if he understood what the problem was. “It’ll sort itself out, Floss. Just give her some time.”

I hummed, the sound dead. “I hope so.” I gave him another downhearted smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow to pick her up.”

“Alright, love.”

“Bye, Oscar.” I forced a better smile and a wave.

He did the same to me, and then we went our separate ways.

I unlocked the car for Ruby before I got there, and she wasted no time getting inside. The journey to Mum and Dad’s, though short, was silent, and I hated it. She didn’t comment on anything, she didn’t say anything about her day, she didn’t ask me a question. Nothing. If a pin ever did drop in that moment it would’ve been deafening.

At my parents’ house she ran straight up to her room there without even saying hello to anyone. I went straight to the sofa and curled up in a ball next to my dad.

“What’s going on? Why is she upstairs?” My mother asked as she leaned on the back of the sofa.

“She’s still not talking.”

“Really?” My mother kissed her teeth. “That’s some really petty nonsense right there, Floss.”

“Tell me about it. It’s like having a teenager.”

“Well, it’s because you let her believe it’s an acceptable way to behave.”

Of course this was all my fault. My mother was the one who upset her but I was the one getting the blame for it? But then the more I thought about it, I realised maybe it was my fault. I was the one who started sleeping with the sexy dentist in the first place. 

Curse me and my raging hormones.

“Go and get her, Dave.” My mother patted Dad’s arm. “I’m not having her come here for dinner to hide in that room all evening. She can go home if that’s what she’s gonna do.”

I redacted the fact that going home to her own bedroom was exactly what Ruby wanted to do.

Dad stood from his place with a displeased groan and disappeared to try and coax my daughter downstairs. I stayed put and stared at the TV without registering what was going on. My mother went back into the kitchen to finish cooking dinner.

Ten minutes later my dad was back, without Ruby. “She’s not coming.” He announced with a long sigh.

“No,” Mum slapped her tea towel on the counter and marched into the hallway, muttering as she went, “no soy un hostal, soy su abuela. Ella se sentará aquí con el resto de nosotros y nos mostrará un poco de respeto.”

I sat up and watched her storm about the house, terrified. I hadn’t seen my mother like this since I was a teenager.

“Ruby Fuentes-Carter!” She screamed up the stairs. “I do not invite you to this house for dinner so you can sit in that room and ignore us. Come downstairs right now! No me importa por lo que estés molesto, comerás con nosotras si te gusta o no.”

A door opened upstairs, and this little voice shouted, “¡No estoy llegando!” I’m not coming!

I put my head in my hands, an ache in my chest.

My mother went back to stomping around, making passive aggressive comments that flipped between Spanish and English, sometimes mid-sentence.

“I’m not feeding her.” She told me, pointing a finger at me, and then carried on. A minute later she came back and said, with the same stature, “I am not feeding her, Florence. If she’s going to behave like that in my house she can go without her dinner, I don’t care.”

And I knew she meant it, too, because I spent many nights in my room without dinner when I was 14 or 15. Except Ruby was only half that age, and it was really unusual. It seemed like an immense overreaction on her part to being given a little challenge by her grandma. 

I stood up and without looking at anybody said, “I’m gonna take her home.”

“What about your dinner?” My mother asked, hands on her hips and offence written right across her face.

“Mum, I’m not gonna let you feed me but not Ruby. That’s ridiculous.”

“No, what’s ridiculous is this attitude she’s got all of a sudden. All because her mamá might have someone else in her life that means she won’t get every single ounce of attention. She should be happy for you, Florence. You have been on your own for so long and you have finally met somebody who obviously makes you happy. And she’s throwing a temper tantrum because she’s ‘scared of change’. I am not having it for you. She should be over the fucking moon.

“I know you tried really hard to make sure she didn’t turn into a typical only child brat stereotype by giving her things in moderation. Trivial things, functional things. But you forgot about the other thing. You had two parents growing up as an only child, and she has only ever had you. And it’s very possible that she will only ever have you. She has no idea what it’s like to share a person because she’s never had to, and unless you put your foot down, she never will.”

And once again, my mother made an all-too-valid point.

I got mum to pack up two small plastic containers full of the dinner she’d made for us, and I took Ruby home and let her have it in her room. As soon as I’d done the washing up I went straight to bed and fell asleep, and I didn’t wake up until the next morning when my alarm went off.

On Wednesday and Thursday when I picked Ruby up from Harry’s, he told me Ruby had been just as quiet as she had all week (aside from her outburst on Tuesday with my mother). Apparently even Oscar had noticed it, because she was taking it to school with her.

I knew I needed to say something to her. She was about to spend the night at her grandma’s house and Daniela Fuentes would not take another episode lightly of whatever Tuesday was.

“Ruby, can I talk to you for a minute?” I asked, gesturing at the breakfast table before we even left the house on Friday morning.

She didn’t answer me, she just sat down and looked at her feet. I took the opposite seat and leant my weight on the table.

“If we’re going to have this conversation I need you to be looking at me.”

My daughter still never shifted her gaze, and her face was sullen.

“Ruby,”

She shook her head.

I gritted my teeth. Bongo was sitting on the floor staring between the two of us. He made a small whine and then stood, moving towards Ruby and muzzling his nose into her limp hand. She didn’t so much as flinch.

“Look at me, please.”

Still she glared at the floor, and I was losing my temper.

“Ruby!” I shouted, and I smacked a hand to the tabletop.

She jumped, and looked my way. Her eyes were wide and startled.

“I don’t know what I’ve done, or your grandma’s done, to deserve whatever this behaviour is from you, but it ends right now. Right now. You shouted at your abuela the other day in her own home and it was not okay, I did not raise you to be that way and neither did she. Whatever it is that’s going on, it ends now, because she is not going to tolerate it again.”

Ruby looked at me with a stare that was so emotionless it terrified me. “Abuela upset me.”

“Why?” I asked, baffled. “All she did was question you. In her head she can’t justify your reasoning for being upset, and neither can I. You’re terrified of change and that’s fine, but nothing is changing. Nothing.”

“You lied to me!”

“No, I didn’t!”

“You said you didn’t have a boyfriend and it was a lie!”

“I don’t have a boyfriend, Ruby!”

She started to cry. Apparently all of my daughter’s frustrations and anger and sadness had finally come to the surface, and they bubbled over like hot, aggressive lava. “I know you do! Oscar told me - you’ve been seeing his daddy when I go to Abuela’s! I said I didn’t want you to have a boyfriend!”

I rolled my head back and dragged my hands down my face. “Ruby, you might be too young to understand this, but Harry and I have labelled nothing. We haven’t decided what we are yet, okay? Yes, I have been spending time with Oscar’s daddy when I can, because I like him. I like him a lot, actually. But you have always been the most important thing to me - I said that, didn’t I?”

“So why are you choosing him over me?”

“I’m not.” I was exasperated. “When have I ever done that?”

“Saturday!”

“What are you talking about?”

“You said you weren’t coming with me and abuela because you had things to do. And you didn’t do them! You went to see Oscar’s daddy.”

I sat back a little. “Okay, yes. Fine. I did go and see Harry instead of doing what I said I was. I lied to you, and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. That being said, I specifically gave you the option of coming with me or staying with Grandma, and you chose to stay. If you wanted to come with me, we would’ve done whatever you wanted to do.”

“You should’ve stayed with us.”

I took a deep breath, and then another. “I don’t know where you picked up this behaviour from, but it ends now. Do you understand?” I said in the sternest voice I could muster. “It is not up to you to dictate to me what I do and when I do it - I am your mother. You listen to me. Grandad is picking you up from school today, and you need to have got rid of whatever this attitude is by the time he does. Because Grandma might have lost her temper yesterday, but it is nothing compared to what your grandad can do.”

She scowled at her lap, remaining wordless again.

“Go and get in the car.”

That evening at Geri’s house I welcomed the first glass of wine she handed me. It was gone within five minutes, and she very quickly topped it up again.

“Oh, mate.” Zara cooed, rubbing my back.

“What’s going on with you?” Geri asked, sitting at the corner end of her ridiculously large sofa. “Is Ruby still playing up?”

“Yeah…” I said and gave a heaved sigh. “We had a massive fight this morning, the worst one we’ve ever had.”

“I went into the office at lunchtime and she were crying.” Zara said tightly. “Didn’t know what to do with myself. Her sandwich got all soggy.”

I laughed around at the reminder and leaned my head against her shoulder. It was true - at lunchtime, with five minutes too many to think about the state of my relationship with my seven-year-old, I’d burst into tears and cried into my sandwich until it was inedible.

“What’s wrong with her?”

“I told her she needed to sort out her attitude before she went to my mum and dad’s tonight ‘cause they wouldn’t be having it. She got so upset, it was really frustrating.”

“What’s she upset about, though?” Geri was frowning. “I know she’s been in a mood all week but you never said why.”

I chewed my lip, gaze flitting between the two of them. “I’ve been seeing someone.”

Geri’s mouth fell open, and Zara’s eyes went wide, charged with excitement. “Let me guess,” Zara started, “Darren?”

“What?” I frowned. “Ew, no.”

Geri swatted our friend’s arm. “It’s Harry, isn’t it?”

I failed at not smiling. Suddenly the room filled with delighted squeals. Zara stood up and started jumping around, and Geri launched herself at me once our wine glasses were a safe distance away, tackling me into the opposite corner of the sofa.

“I fucking knew it!” Zara screamed.

“Er, no you didn’t.” I argued, regaining my composure.

“Fine, I didn’t. But still, this is great news!”

“I’m so happy for you.” Geri said, still clinging to me. A tear rolled down her face.

“Thank you… Yeah. It’s early doors but it’s going really well. And I do really like him. Like, a lot.”

“How did it happen?” Zara asked, sitting back down.

“Half term.” I recollected my wine and took another large gulp. “You know I told you he broke down and I had to go and get him?”

“That day?!”

“Well, the day after. When he came to get his car from the garage.”

“That doesn’t sound very romantic.”

I looked at Geri, confused. “What do you mean?”

“He came to collect his car from the garage and then asked you on a date? Bit dull.”

“Oh,” I chewed my lip again, “not exactly.”

Zara gasped. “You did it in the garage?!”

I blushed and giggled so much I had to hide my face. More squealing ensued.

“You dirty bitch!” Zara was cackling.

“Look, I know you two think I’m some kind of nun, but I’m not, alright?” I was defensive but I was entertained. “I’ve slept with a lot more people than you think I have.”

“How many are we talking?”

“I don’t know, I never counted.” I shrugged.

“More than ten?”

“Oh, easily.”

“Twenty?”

“More.”

“Thirty?”

I stopped and thought about it. “Yeah, probably. Thirty-one if you count Harry.”

Zara’s laughter sounded like barking. “Why didn’t you tell us you were a bit of a slag?”

I kissed my teeth. “Because you were always badgering on at me to find a long-term boyfriend and I didn’t want that. Not then, anyway.”

“Aw.” Geri mumbled, rubbing my back. “Finding out that you’re a tart has made my day. No, my whole month.”

“Maybe even her year.” Zara sniggered.

“Piss off.” I said, laughing.

“So, what’s Ruby’s problem?”

I sighed. “She doesn’t want me to have a boyfriend because she doesn’t like change. I mean, me and Harry haven’t even gone near that whole labelling stuff yet, we’re just… I don’t know, we’re still learning about one another. Really, I barely know him. Took me until last week to realise that he’s Lottie’s husband.”

“Is he?” Zara asked with a furrowed brow.

“Of course he is, you twat.” Geri rolled her eyes.

“I thought their baby was like two years old?”

“He was when Lottie died. Five years ago.”

Zara screwed her face up. “That’s awkward. Does he talk about her?”

“Never.” I shook my head.

“Anyway, back to Ruby.” Geri pushed on. “You told her you’re seeing him and she got upset?”

“Well, no. I hadn’t told her anything. It’s only been, like, two weeks, for crying out loud. I thought I’d have at least a month or two before I needed to tell her, but as soon as it happened she started going off on how she doesn’t want things to change and me having a boyfriend would ruin that. Then on Saturday at the salon Mum said something about the county fair and all of us going, and Ruby said she didn’t want Harry to go, and my mum got really arsey with her.”

“Does your mum know?”

“Oh God, yeah. Can’t hide shit from that woman, she knew as soon as I arrived in Perranporth.”

“You were glowing.” Zara giggled.

“No, that’s literally what she said to me!”

Zara threw her head back laughing. “Amazing.”

“So… yeah. My mum really likes Harry and she was really excited for me, and I think she just got upset that Ruby isn’t. Especially because until she found out that we’d started seeing each other she really liked him.”

“She just needs to get over it, Floss.” Geri shrugged.

“Everyone keeps telling me that. But you’re not the ones living with her.”

“That’s the only child syndrome coming into play.” Zara said, pursing her lips.

“Exactly what my mum said.” I huffed. “I’ve concentrated too hard on not giving her what she wants all the time in terms of materialism that I forgot about teaching her to share people… Me.”

“It is, it’s learnt behaviour. She knows that she can get you whenever she wants you because you’ve always done it.”

I gasped. “You know last Friday night, I was with Harry and she called me to say Mum and Dad were sick and she couldn’t sleep. I went right to her.”

Both Geri and Zara wore the same mirrored expression; pressed lips around a cringe.

“I literally didn’t think of that. I mean it wasn’t far so I just went and spent the night with her and she was asleep within 5 minutes of me being there.”

“She’s clever, has to be said.” Geri laughed, but it was tight and nervous.

“Clearly doesn’t get it from me.”

“I know she’s your baby and you love her. You’re such a great mum, Floss, you don’t need to debate that ever. But Ruby needs to learn that change happens. Hell, shit happens. And she ain’t gonna like some of it, but that’s the way the world works. She can’t throw a tantrum every time something happens that she don’t like. You’ll be walking on eggshells around her.”

“No, I know.” I said, somewhat resigned.

“Anyway,” Zara held her glass up, “let’s have a toast to Florence finally finding a man she really likes. It’s only taken her twice as long as the rest of us.”

I scowled at her and drank out of my glass without raising it.

“We’re really happy for you, Floss.” Geri said, and it was in a much more sincere and serious tone than we’d been speaking before.

I held her gaze for a while, and I realised that this was Geri’s emergency girls night. Not mine. I’d spent all of it so far talking about me and my own problems. We were supposed to be here to talk to Geri about hers.

“Are you alright?” I asked her directly. It was vague enough to be considered a question for everyone, but I meant it just for her.

After a moment of silence, Geri finally said. “We’re getting a divorce.”

I kept looking at Geri, but I could see Zara shifting her gaze between the two of us, head moving like a bird in a cuckoo clock. “Who is?”

“We are.” Geri moved her gaze from me to Zara. “Me and Owen.”

“What?” She shifted her body to look directly at Geri, and only Geri. “Why? What happened?”

She cleared her throat. I just rubbed circles into her back. “I, er… It was me, I asked for it.”

I rested my head on her shoulder, because it felt like she’d probably need it. Zara had no idea what was coming and I thought it would be good for at least one of us to be holding onto her when she finally told us her news.

“Really?” 

“Yeah. I… I met someone else.”

“Oh my God, who?”

“Her name is August. She’s another mum but she lives in Meysey Hampton.”

Zara’s expression shifted so many times in a single second it gave me whiplash, but eventually she just lifted her head as if she understood. “I see. How did you meet?”

“Gymnastics. Her daughter and Milly are in the same class.” Geri was shrugging but something seemed odd about it. It was like she was embarrassed to admit that she’d started seeing a woman, and I couldn’t figure out why immediately. “We were always talking, always chatting at the sessions. I thought I was crazy for a bit, ‘cause she was quite flirty and I thought she meant it in the same way us guys do. You know how girlfriends flirt with each other?”

“Fuck yeah.” I said into her shoulder.

“But I liked it. In the back of my mind I knew it wasn’t the same. She was flirting with me, and I fucking loved it. And she’s gorgeous, you know? God I felt so odd. I’d both love and hate going to those sessions when it was like that, ‘cause I wanted to see her but I knew I shouldn’t. I’m married. To a man. And I have two kids, and it would destroy us, doing that.”

“So what happened?”

“I started sending Owen. Made him feel bad, said he needed to spend some time with his daughter outside the house.”

“Oh, Ger…”

“I know, it’s bad. But I wanted August to see that we were a family, you know? I wanted her to stop. Anyway, I had to take Milly to her lesson myself one day a few months later because Owen was out of town. August was there, cheerful as ever. She started doing it again, flirting, and I ended up telling her to kind of back off. I think she was offended, but she got it. We barely spoke to each other again for a while.”

I frowned, looking at her. “But that makes it sound like you kind of ended it.”

“Yeah, well that’s what I thought. A few months later, Christmas time,”

“Hang on…” Zara stopped her, “this is last year?”

Geri nodded. “Yeah, I know. Not great. Er, yeah, Christmas time, I was out with work for our staff party, and we went to The Bull in Fairford, we had this private room for dinner, it was really nice. When we were done and leaving I noticed her, August, in the main part of the pub. Thought it was a bit weird ‘cause I think it was a Tuesday or something. Anyway, I gave her a little smile, nothing massive, I just didn’t want to be rude, and I went outside.

“Everyone else had lifts or taxis pre-booked, but I didn’t. Owen was on parent duty so he couldn’t leave the kids at home. So I went back inside and tried to order a taxi with someone at the bar. Before I could, August offered to drive me home. I did try and get a taxi again, but she was really insistent, right. Talking about saving money and she wouldn’t be a very good friend if she didn’t. She’s really persuasive.”

Zara and I shared a look.

“So August drove me home. We talked about the kids, how they’re getting on, what we were doing at the pub, how work was going. You know, normal shit that friends talk about. I threw in some shit about Owen just to remind her that I am married and technically unavailable. I think she found that funny. Just before we got into Bibury she pulled over, you know in that parking bay on Salt Way?”

I did know the parking bay on Salt Way, it was right by my house. If my memory served me rightly, it was a dogging site.

“The dogging one?” Zara asked, unfazed.

Geri let her head fall in her hands. “Yeah, that one.”

“Geri, you don’t have to… butter this up so much.” I told her, wrapping my arms around her middle. “You can say that you fancied her and something happened on Salt Way and you don’t want to take it back.”

“Shut up, Floss, I want her to finish the story in all its gory detail!” Zara whined, and Geri laughed.

“You’re not mad?”

“Mad? That you shagged a sexy MILF on the side of a road in the middle of the night while your miserable husband was at home with your children?” Zara never had hidden her dislike for Owen. “Fuck no, I hope you did it every day!”

I shook my head. “Look, perhaps it could’ve been in better circumstances… But, it happened. And it obviously happened for a reason, right?”

“I hope so. I’m splitting our family up because of it.”

“No, but seriously. What made you change your mind after she pulled over?” Zara begged, patting Geri’s hand like a needy cat.

“Oh, I was really selfish. I felt like such a shitbag afterwards.” Geri scratched her face.

“Go on, be honest.”

“It was her body.”

Zara gasped, and then purred really loudly. “Yes?”

“I have never been more attracted to anyone than I am to August. Ever. Not even Owen. I think Owen is handsome as shit, but August is like, fuckin’ beautiful. Drop dead gorgeous beautiful. She was wearing this sparkly shift dress with big silver sequins on it. And it did absolutely fuck all for her ‘cause I’ve seen her in t-shirts and jeans and that woman is curvacious. And I wanted to see her without it, I really did.

“She said she was pulling over because her engine light had come on.” Geri looked directly at me. “I know that was a lie - her engine light did not come on. I’ve had too many lectures from you to know when something is or isn’t wrong with a car.”

“That’s my girl.” I said proudly.

“I was in two minds. I knew she was stalling, and I really wanted to go home and be a good wife, but I also desperately wanted to see what she looked like naked. I got out of the car after about two minutes of arguing with myself, and I closed the bonnet while she pretended to know what she was doing, and she looked right at me, wide eyed. And I said  “What do you want from me?”  and without hesitation she said  “I want you.” Girls, I was like a woman reborn that night, I shit you not.”

“You’ve never been with a girl before August?” Zara asked.

“No, never. I kind of fancied women when we were younger. Before I was with Owen I’d sometimes watch lesbian porn, but I’d never tried anything. I didn’t know how to. I guess the term they use now is queer? That’s what I thought I was.”

“Turns out you’re actually just a lesbian.”

“Jesus Christ.” I muttered, hiding my face against Geri’s back.

“Yeah, no, that’s exactly it.” Geri laughed.

“Have you got a picture of August?” I asked, voice quiet.

“Sure.” Geri said, and fished her phone off the table. She flicked through her photos and eventually decided on one of the two of them together. It was a selfie, both of their faces filling the screen so I had no idea where they were. They weren’t dressed up or anything. Hell, they could’ve even been at one of Milly’s gymnastics events. But Geri wasn’t wrong - August was a very beautiful woman. An oval face and big green eyes, wild red hair and freckles right the way across her cheeks and nose. Her lips were small but plump, a well-defined cupid’s bow under a little round nose.

“Oh yeah, I get it.” I laughed. “She’s very pretty.”

“Yeah, no wonder you were so keen to get her out her knickers.” Zara agreed. “So, did you have sex in the car? On the bonnet? Against the car? In the bushes?”

“All of the above?” I suggested.

Geri was laughing again and it was lovely to hear. “Er, against the car, mostly. It was very confusing because we were very hot even though it was very cold outside.”

“You saucy cow.”

“Do you feel better?” I asked, resting my chin on Geri’s shoulder again.

“I do, actually. I’ve been keeping this to myself for a long time and it’s nice to be able to talk about it in a positive way. To some degree, at least. I do feel guilty about how it happened. I just also wanted to wait until me and Owen had reached an agreement.”

“That’s fair. What is your agreement?”

“He’ll be moving out, and the kids will go to him every Wednesday and every other weekend. It’s a scary time for them. I don’t know if they’re old enough to be mad at me for it.”

“I don’t wanna say that’s not gonna happen eventually, because it would be a lie.” Zara said, serious for the first time all evening. “But then when they’re adults they probably will understand. Sexuality is a difficult thing to grasp when you’re a child. It shouldn’t be, it should just be what it is.”

“Do you think my sexuality and the impact it’s had on us as a family will reflect on how they see me in the future? Do you think they’ll… I don’t know, will it turn them into, you know, something bad?”

“Are you trying to ask me if I think your actions now will cause your children to become homophobic when they understand what’s happened?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m asking.”

“As long as you continue to raise them the way you have been now, you know, brilliantly and with a good moral compass, then no I don’t. I think they’ll be amazing people.”

It had never occurred to me that something like that would happen. That children might be negatively affected by their parent’s coming out later on in their life. I desperately hoped that wouldn’t happen, not to Geri or anyone. She was an amazing mum, regardless of what was going on with her romantic life. Whenever her children came to realise what had happened, I hoped they would understand.

I felt rough the next morning. We drank a lot. After an evening of revelations we decided to clean up with Geri’s alcohol purchases and dance around the living room with music from our childhood blaring out of every possible speaker. It was nice to be that drunk and that free with my friends again like we were teenagers in a field with illegally-bought booze, and it was the perfect temporary distraction.

I’d fallen asleep on Geri’s sofa the long way, and Zara had passed out on the short edge. Her feet were hanging off the end and she was using my ankle as a cushion. That couldn’t be comfortable. Geri woke us up by opening all the windows in the house and boiling the kettle at the same time as she put on the coffee machine that sounded like an alien spaceship.

“Just because she’s gay now, doesn’t mean she can be a loud bitch.” Zara grumbled, rolling onto her front.

I lightly kicked her. “Don’t be nasty.”

We were fed an absolute feast by Geri that morning - a full English breakfast and all the extra trimmings you could ever think of. I felt fat by the time I was finished.

“Floss,” Geri pulled me to one side before I left to go home and shower.

“Yes, mate?”

“Did you know about… you know, before last night?”

I looked outside the open front door. Zara was already inside Mickey’s car. “Yeah, I did. I overheard you fighting at Ruby’s birthday party.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because you obviously weren’t ready to talk about it, and it’s not my secret to discuss, with you or anyone else. I wanted to wait until you were ready and do it on your terms.”

Geri looked at me for a long time, and then she wrapped herself around me in the tightest hug we’d shared for a long time. “You’re a really fucking good friend. I hope you know that, mate.”

“Thank you. And so are you.” I pulled back and held her face. “Don’t let your guilt eat you up, please. Having kids is hard, but they love you and they’ll understand. Whether it be when they’re older or right away. You don’t need to be worried about anything else.”

I walked home and had the longest, coldest shower I could tolerate. It was unbearably warm again, so when I redressed, I chose the thinnest t-shirt I owned and a pair of denim shorts. Before I left to collect Ruby I tidied up a bit, putting her room in order since she’d left it in such a mess while spending so much time in there. I also put a load of washing on so it’d be ready to hang out and dry when I came back.

When I got to the house on The Square that wasn’t a square, Bongo was the first one to greet me. He seemed less excitable than usual even though he was licking my hand and all up my arm. But he was whining a little.

“Good morning my handsome boy.” I fussed him, more than I usually would in the hopes of cheering him up. “What’s going on, aye? What’s going on? Why’re you crying?”

“He’s been like it all morning, I don’t know what’s wrong with him.” My mother said, appearing from the kitchen.

How odd. I picked him up and cradled him like a baby, his big dopey eyes staring up at me. “What’s happening, aye? What’s got you so down?”

I put him down after a minute of cooing and kisses, and went to hover in the kitchen while my mother did the washing up. “What’s Ruby been like?”

“I haven’t seen her. As soon as she got here yesterday she went straight up to that room and she hasn’t been down since.”

I sighed. “Has she eaten?”

“Nope. Called her down for dinner and breakfast. Nothing. Not a peep.”

“Great. Our conversation yesterday was clearly a waste of time.”

“What did you talk about?”

“It was more shouting than talking. I told her she needed to snap out of whatever this bollocks is and she just kept calling me a liar. I told her about Harry and she said I’m choosing him over her. It’s been, like, two or three weeks, I don’t know how that’s even possible.”

“She’s just being dramatic.”

I sighed again, heavier. “I’ll go and get her, take her out your hair.”

I trudged my way up the stairs, and Bongo followed right behind me, still whimpering. I knocked on Ruby’s door and pushed it open, “Ruby?”

I looked around, expecting to see her on her bed, or in it. But she wasn’t.

“Ruby?” I asked again, peering around the door. 

She wasn’t in there. All her school bags and her uniform were on the floor next to Bongo’s bed, but there was no sign of my daughter in this room.

I tried the bathroom next, since that was logically the next place to go looking. But she wasn’t in there, either.

I called her name again, “Where are you?”

I tried my room, wondering if maybe she wanted to sleep in my bed for a change, but that was as it always was. I tried my parent’s room after that, but that room was also empty.

“Ruby?!”

I suddenly felt very sober.

I ran downstairs and into the kitchen.

“What’s going on?” My mother asked, irritated.

“Mamá, ella no está aquí.” Mum, she’s not here, I said breathlessly.

“¿Qué quieres decir con que ella no está aquí?” What do you mean, she's not here?

“¡Quiero decir que Ruby no está aquí! ¡Ella se ha ido!” I mean she’s not here! She’s gone!

The colour drained from my mother’s face.

“Did you check on her before you went to bed?” I asked, and I was panicking. A lot. “Mum?!”

“No, I was still angry with her…”

“And Dad? Did he check? Where is he?”

“He’s gone golfing… but he went alone, I watched him leave.”

“Mamá…” I started crying. “¿Por qué no la miraste antes de irte a la cama?” Why didn’t you check on her before you went to bed? “I know you’re angry and upset but she’s seven years old, Mum! She’s a child! You put your ego aside for shit like this, she’s a baby! She doesn’t know any better!”

“Florence, I’m sorry.”

“Call Dad and tell him to come home.” I said, already leaving.

“Where are you going?!”

“Where the fuck do you think I’m going?!”

I ran, yes ran, back to the house to see if Ruby managed to get home and I’d just missed her. I tore the place up - I undid all my cleaning work and looked through every room in my house to see if she was there, but she wasn’t.

I started knocking on all the doors in the close to see if they’d seen her, but no one had.

“Have you checked the field?” One neighbour asked me. He was a bit of a recluse but he’d always been nice to us. At Christmas he always gave me a bottle of wine and Ruby a chocolate selection. He used to be in the army - he had a trained dog.

I looked out at the field between the houses and I felt sick. “No, I haven’t.”

“You keep knocking on doors, I’ll take Denny out into the field, okay?”

“Thank you,” I blubbered around my tears.

“Do you have something of hers the dog can sniff?”

“Yeah, hang on.”

I ran back to the house and found a teddy from her bed, then left it with him. “Take it with you. If you find her before me I want her to have something familiar.”

The neighbour nodded, and I carried on down the close with my knocking. By the time I reached the end of the road no one had seen her. Not a single person. Wherever Ruby was, she hadn’t come home.

More coming soon!

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles writing #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff

[pinkpeachesandcreme]

loved the somno stuff 💕 he told me to feel free to play with him anytime i want, even if he’s sleeping. i woke up and he was spooning me and i love cock so much, it was so close to me, i just had to reach around behind me and hold it. that’s all i would do, feel it full in my hand. but of course i had to start kneading and caressing. eventually rolling over to jerk it off a little. checking if he’s still sleeping, because it was so hot to me that he was and i wanted to keep it that way. i crawled down slowly, licking a little and putting the head in my mouth. yeah, i would just hold it there and cockwarm. oh, but it felt so good to feel him twitch into the unknown source of pleasure, rut his hips into my mouth occasionally. i bobbed my head up and down, stroking what wasn’t in my mouth. it was so hard. 10, 15, 20 minutes maybe. his alarm went off and he rolled over to shut it off. i hid my face, embarrassed. “i know what you were doing,” he said, guiding my hand back to his cock to stroke it. “how long have you been doing that?” “don’t worry about it 🥰,” i said. he suddenly flipped me over and thrust it in my wet pussy, only fucking me for a minute before asking where i want his cum. “inside me?” i asked. so i got filled up, his cum leaking out of me when he pulled out. “i’ve NEVER cum that fast,” he says. “well, it wasn’t so fast,” i say, “you’ve been going for a while ☺️”

#had 2 get that off my chest thanks 😮‍💨 #bunbun #daddy

[endiness]

If anyone is interested, here are all of the spoilers and rumors so far about Radovid and Jaskier x Radovid and just everything relating to that. And also book!Radovid.

"Royal playboy and younger brother to King Vizimir, Radovid finds himself suddenly a man on the inside of the Redanian Intelligence. With his good looks and drunken charm, Radovid amazes with how incisive he can be in political affairs, but it’s all games until someone gets hurt."

Source: https://twitter.com/witchernetflix/status/1514605669667663872

~

Source: https://twitter.com/RedanianIntel/status/1669074435586834433

~

Episode 1: “Shaerrawedd” Meanwhile at the Redanian court, our bard Jaskier is involved in political plots and schemes, which leads him to his fateful meeting with Prince Radovid of Redania.

Episode 2: “Unbound” Back at the Redanian court, there’s still plotting, scheming and the development of Jaskier’s romance with Prince Radovid. The bard even sings a song to the prince.

Source: https://redanianintelligence.com/2023/06/15/spoilers-the-witcher-season-3-vol-1-episode-guide/

~

Transcript of Radovid's audition scene with Jaskier:

Jaskier: It’s been years since I’ve seen the princess. Also, ……. If I could help… Radovid: It’s nice, but nothing like you chose. What I wouldn’t give to hear you play halfway as … on that one. Jaskier: Oh, a fan? And someone who understands true artistry? How the instrument and the artist can elevate each other. Radovid: Yes, two things of beauty, made to be together. Jaskier: Precisely! Radovid: So here’s a thought: this poor princess has enemies everywhere and truth be told our kingdom’s not a bad place. It’s cold in winter and humid in summer. The cuisine, however, spectacular. And my brother’s not bad as far as my likes are concerned. Redania may not be perfect, but it’s her least bad option. And if you came to Redania, you could be our royal troubadour. Otherwise we might have to listen to that reedy voice of Valdo Marx. Just think about it, would you? Jaskier: I would. Radovid: We should be going. [Suggestive] Unless you’d like to show me how you play your instrument.

* Note: I've changed the names to reflect the proper characters/locations.

Source: https://redanianintelligence.com/2021/12/02/the-witcher-season-3-audition-tape-suggests-more-political-intrigue-involving-jaskier/

~

We know that this [audition] scene or a very close version of it made it into the show and that there are more moments of flirtation and chemistry between Radovid and Jaskier later on. The two men develop a romantic relationship over the course of the season. And later, Jaskier and Radovid finally kiss.

Source: https://redanianintelligence.com/2023/05/24/yes-what-many-thought-about-the-witcher-jaskier-is-true/

~

“Jaskier falls in love,” Schmidt Hissrich reveals. “And it’s with a character who fans will know [and] continues showing up in the books. So what happens this season between them will have ripple effects for a very long time.”

Batey relished digging into Jaskier’s new love story. “He’s having his hot girl summer,” Batey jokes. “It’s been really rewarding to see [his love life] told in a very visual way. [We] ensured that these romances are told truthfully — and sensitively and carefully, without resorting to stereotypes… Hopefully we’ve created something that is special, a sapioromantic and sapiosexual [connection] that is as flawed as any other relationship in this show.”

One other element in Jaskier’s life may just complicate his newfound love. As he’s “falling into an uncle role” for Ciri alongside parental figures Geralt and Yennefer, Jaskier is also pulled into the political machinations of the Continent.  

“He’s certainly a man of many trades, but I’m not sure he’s inherently built to be a spy,” Batey says. “Yet he’s found himself in a time of war, in turmoil, and is trying to do his best to do something good.”

Source: https://www.netflix.com/tudum/articles/witcher-season-3-henry-cavill-interview

~

Joey Batey finally verified that his poet will indeed end up in a romantic entanglement with the new character. "Showrunner Lauren Schmidt Hissrich came to me long before we even saw some scripts and said, 'This is the direction we'd like to take Jaskier,'" Batey told SFX, calling the romance subplot "a more modern interpretation of the books." In a previous interview with Netflix's Tudum, Batey declared season 3 Jaskier's "hot girl summer," calling the romance "sapioromantic" (a term that refers to falling for someone's intellect regardless of gender) without actually citing the love interest character by name.

Speaking to SFX, Batey explained that he doesn't "think Jaskier really sees gender," but also implied that meeting Radovid throws the character for a loop from their very first encounter. "We see Radovid arriving," Batey said, and, "for the first time in a while, Jaskier can't work him out. That to him is the most intriguing prospect." He describes a moment of recognition between the pair: "You wear just as much of a mask as I do. I want to see who is going to lower their mask first."

Hissrich also spoke with the outlet, and explained that Jaskier's relationship with Radovid will be completely different than his connection with a character video game players will know, Vespula. "When we started in the writers' room this season, we had a question about Jaskier that was really fun to explore: Who is Jaskier when he is on his own, away from Geralt, Yen and Ciri?" Hissrich asked. "What that brought us to is Jaskier's first really serious relationship."

Hissrich continued: "We introduced a character from the books, Vespula — Jaskier's on-again-off-again lover, but then we used that dynamic to provide a contrast to what happens when Jaskier actually starts to have deeper feelings toward someone." That someone seems poised to be Radovid.

"My priority was ensuring it was done in a sensitive, caring way that avoided all kinds of stereotypes," he told SFX. "I was heavily involved in some of the script revisions in order to ensure a very safe, sexual, romantic connection with this person."

Source: https://www.slashfilm.com/1309204/the-witcher-joey-batey-confirms-jaskiers-romance-season-3/

~

Jaskier will be singing tunes here and there throughout the season. One of his sad love songs he will be singing to none other than his new love interest, Prince Radovid of Redania.

Source: https://redanianintelligence.com/2023/06/12/jaskier-song-lover-radovid-and-other-tunes-in-the-witcher-season-3/

~

Mentions of Radovid in the books:

Prince Radovid was a minor, Queen Hedwig had been devastated by the tragic death of her husband - the aristocracy, terrified, had become stupid, and was disunited and divided into factions.

— Baptism of Fire

“I know [Calante] had wedding plans for Ciri, to join her with young Tancred Thyssen of Kovir or perhaps to the Redanian prince, Radovid, I don’t know exactly.”

— The Tower of Swallows

'Long live His Holiness!' A few voices came from the crowd, obviously bribes. Novigrad's hierarch Cyrus Englekind Hemmelfart rose and blessed the people and the army with his outstretched hands, while irreverently covering Queen Hedwig and young Radovid with the skirts of his robe.

Nobody shouts, "Long live Radovid", thought the prince covered by the hierarch's fat ass. No one even looks at me. No one is screaming in honour of my mother. No one remembers my poor father. Even today, at a day of triumph, which he so richly deserved. After all, that's why he was murdered.

He felt a gaze on his neck. Delicate like someone he did not know - or knew, but only in his dreams. Something that was soft like a brush of a woman's warm lips. He turned his head. He discovered the dark unfathomable eyes of Philippa Eilhart fixed on him.

Wait, thought the prince, looking away. Just wait.

No one could predict or guess then that this boy of thirteen years, which at that time was a person without any relevance in a country ruled by the Regency Council and by Dijkstra, would become king. A king who, after he paid all the insults that had been given to his mother and him, would go down in history with the name Radovid the Stern.

— Lady of the Lake

#radovid #jaskier #jaskier x radovid #radskier #the witcher #!txt: the witcher #the witcher spoilers #updated: 6/15

[scented-morker]

The Truth

masterlist | next

written part below the cut. 831 words. Buckle up.

You enter the building ten minutes early, adjusting your mask and hair even though there are reporters calling your name, meaning they already recognized you.

Once past all the flashing lights, the Secretary guides you up the elevator and to the door you know is your ceo’s.

His door immediately opens, and he gives you an abnormally warm smile, much nicer than the sad one from when he told you about your hiatus, and you take it as a good sign.

However, that hope is squashed when you walk in and see another figure in the room.

Your manager is sitting in a chair across from psy’s, and he doesn’t even spare you a glance as you enter.

It seems as if your ceo has noticed your discomfort, and he once again gives you a smile, moving the empty chair from next to your manager to the other side of the desk, almost directly next to him before gesturing for you to sit in it.

The air is tense and silent before the most powerful of you speaks.

“I’ve called you in today to talk about both of your futures with the company,” he turns to you first. “Yn, can I please see your phone?”

You look at him in shock, but you know it’s in your contract, so you hand over the prized possession.

“Unlocked please.”

You grimace, putting your fingerprint in and watching with bated breath as he opens your messages, scrolling right past Sunghoon’s incriminating contact name and his own, clicking on the next worst one.

Manager 🖕

He scrolls through your messages, and you and your manager both sit in silence.

You’re about five seconds from a panic attack when he finally speaks, and you resist the urge to fan your face with your sweaty hands.

“Hongbin.”

Your manager finally looks up at the call of his name, and you swear he smirks at you before looking to the source of the sound.

“Yes CEO?”

“Are you aware of the code of conduct we have for anyone interacting with our artists here at PNation?”

His smile falters for a quick second, and you feel guilty about just how happy it makes you.

“Yes sir, I had to read and sign it when I was hired.”

“Correct you did. Do you think you’re following it in your actions regarding Miss.Yn?”

Manager Hongbin drops the smile, and quickly defends himself.

“Yes I do. My job as a manager is to make sure the girls are successful. Yn was being a hindrance so I made sure to address it.”

Your face gets hot at being called “a hindrance” to your group, and you blink back tears. No way were you going to let your sick manager see you cry.

“Did you ever think to come to me before ‘addressing’ her?”

“No sir, I wouldn’t want to bother you over something so mundane to a manager.”

“I will tell you what Hongbin, none of my other managers have ever spoken to their artists the way you have been speaking to the members of Darling.”

A Secretary walks in, bringing Psy a stack of papers.

“I understand CEO, my style of managing includes more tough love than some others but it doesn’t mean I’ve done anything wrong.”

“Really?”

At that, your ceo stands up, walking over to a cork board, pinning what you now realize are screenshots.

“Are you aware we are able to see all texts you send on your company phone?”

He goes pale at this, and you watch as upwards of twenty pictures are posted in front of him, some being from your conversations and other being to his friends ABOUT YOU, and a few you now realize are to Yuri.

His language is borderline vulgar in the texts he’s sent about the two of you, and you want to throw up seeing the way he’s been speaking not only to you, but also to your leader and friend.

“We will be terminating your contract with PNation, due to workplace harassment, as well as charging you in the legal court with harassment and restraining orders for all members of Darling. Based on the evidence I’ve placed in front of you, I recommend you don’t try to fight or deny these claims, and save all of us some time and money by pleading guilty and taking your punishment.”

Hongbin is red in the face, and if looks could kill you’d be six feet underground. He slams his hands on the desk as he stands up, finger held out as if to start yelling.

Instead, the door opens and he is immediately drug out by security.

#💐.pick me #enhypen series #enhypen smau #enhypen sunghoon smau #enhypen sunghoon x reader #enhypen texts #enhypen sunghoon texts #enhypen sunghoon series

[ladyvesuvia]

patching up peter parker and he confesses his love for u? :)

two confessions in one night.

PAIRING: Peter Parker x GN!Reader

WORDS: 0.8k

SUMMARY: When a wounded Peter pays you a much needed visit at three in the morning, two truths reveal itself.

A/N: had too much fun writing this so it got longer than intended i’m sorry HSNXBRJW

marvel masterlist.

A knock on your window awoke you.

“This better not be you, Peter. This better NOT be you,” you mumbled to yourself, half-hoping you were only dreaming.

Even more so when you hopped out of your bed only to be greeted by the very face you wished to imagine sleeping peacefully in his own bed stained by blood you weren’t sure about the source of.

“Peter!” you exclaimed, the drowsiness gone in an instant. You immediately went after your window, pulling it up open to let him climb in. “It’s three in the morning! What is wrong with you?”

“I’m — I am so sorry for interrupting you. It’s just that Ned wasn’t in town and MJ’s asleep because she has plans tomorrow and —”

“Are you seriously apologizing about ‘bothering’ me? You’re not, Peter. You’re never bothering me. Sit down. I’m gonna go get you . . .” You assessed his wounds. “Well, everything. I’ll get the kit.”

You came back a while later, carrying two plastic boxes and tossing it onto the bed right beside him. You pulled your desk chair, dragging it in front of Peter and taking your seat.

You got to work, opening the box and applying the appropriate treatments and grabbing the respectful bandages. You started cleaning his wounds first.

You could sense him staring, but you don’t say anything. He does, though. “Um, [Y/N]?”

You say nothing.

“[Y/N]? You’re — you’re not saying anything. You’re scaring me. Are you — are we okay?”

“I’m scaring you? You are literally decorated with a pattern of wounds right now, Peter. It’s so careless of you! What if you — I don’t know — get hit by a bus?”

He started laughing, and you wanted to shut him up so bad. “Well, you do know I can sense that, right? And I could stop it even if it does reach me?”

“What if you get . . .” You started thinking. “What if your identity was revealed and now everyone is hot on your tail? Then what?”

“Then it’s good to know you’d be there for me.”

You stared at each other for a good solid five seconds before you found yourself talking, or at least the closest thing to it: “Oh.”

“Sorry.”

“I mean, yeah, sure I would be there for you. And Ned and MJ, of course.”

“Yeah,” he agreed jokingly. “Ned — Ned and MJ, definitely.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you said, continuing on working on the scratches on his face. “I hate you, you know.”

Peter moved an inch, you had to steady his face with your other hand. “What? Why?”

“You keep getting into these deadly scenarios. One of these days, I’m gonna find you dead in a ditch. I don’t like that.”

“Well, I don’t wanna die yet,” he chuckled. “At least, not until I’ve. . .” He continued on, but the rest of what he said was mumbled.

“What?”

“I’ve told you that, well, you know.”

“I don’t,” you started, willing him to spit out what it is he seemed to have been keeping for a while now.

“Okay, okay,” he said, sighing as he pulled away from you. You could see him even clearer in this light. “Let’s just say that I — I practiced . . . this?”

“Okay? And? What did you practice?”

“[Y/N], I understand if you’d think this is weird because it is weird, right? I mean, for you, at least. Not me, though. I — I just think that maybe if I said this, you would never—”

“Spit it out, Peter Parker,” you said, crossing your arms at him.

“I like you,” he admitted, eyes hopeful once more.

“Oh,” you let out.

“That’s — that’s the second ‘Oh’ you have ‘Oh’d’ today.”

You had to laugh at that, and it was quite obvious he was just as pleased to see your eyes light up. “Well, now that you’ve said that, don’t be fine with dying still. Because then you wouldn’t be able to do anything with my feelings. God, I hate that word. But, well, yeah, you know. I do like you, too, if that much wasn’t clear.”

Silence for the next minute.

“You know,” you began, “when you showed up a couple minutes ago, I had hoped it wasn’t you.”

“You don’t — you don’t want me here?”

“Oh, I want you here, alright. Just not all bloody and in pain.”

“Then I’ll go through the front door next time. With flowers, perhaps?” he said with the sweetest smile possible. Or maybe that’s just how you saw all of his smiles — perfect.

“That would be great. And as Peter Parker, too, please. My family would post shit tons of pictures of Spider-Man on Facebook captioned with, ‘Our [Y/N]’ is dating FNSM!”

“FNSM?” he laughed both in confusion and disbelief.

“Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man. You get it. Anyway, I — I want them to like Peter Parker.”

“I want them to like Peter Parker, too.”

“They will.”

“How do you know that?” he asked.

And out came a new confession: “Well, for starters, I’ve already talked about you to them and I may or may not have shown them a picture of you. They, uh, said you were cute.”

“I am?” he asked, but you saw right through it.

“Alright, shut up. Yes, yes, you are.”

#ves.writes #ves.writes peter parker #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker fluff #peter parker oneshot #mcu #marvel #mcu x reader #marvel x reader #marvel cinematic universe #peter parker headcanons

[yoongisugaagust]

HOME: The Wedding

•Summary: Min Yoongi meets his forever.

•Warning: Smut.

“What time is it?” Yoongi groaned turning over in bed after you walk back into the bedroom.

“It’s 5,” you replied around your tooth brush rushing back into the bathroom after grabbing a hair clip off your dresser.

“In the morning?? Come back to bed,” he groggily pleaded.

“I’m already running late.” You quickly rinsed your mouth and grabbed your keys then made your way back to Yoongi’s side of the bed.

“Yoon,” you lightly shook his sleepy form. “We haven’t explicitly talked about this but you know my parents are attending, right?”

“Yeah,” he sat up.

“I can explain to them if you’re not ready to meet them.”

Yoongi grabbed your hand and gave a little squeeze. “I’m ready to meet them jagi. I know how much it would mean to you so it means a lot to me.”

“They’re saving a seat for you next to my mother. I’ll see you over at the venue. Please remember to grab my things with you?” A quick kiss and you were on your way to get glammed you for your best friend’s big day. Hair and makeup went by quickly and getting dressed was a breeze.

“Y/n?” Sara called for you to the she was getting ready in.

“You look so stunning,” you complimented. You have her an assuring nod knowing she had a lot on her mind.

“Remind me? You know..” looking right into your eyes she hoped you knew exactly what she meant. Of course you knew.

“Deep breath?” You asked and she obeyed. “You deserve good things. You are not your past. Your past will not determine your future. You deserve love. Can you repeat for me?”

Sara took a shaky breath. “I deserve good things. I am not my past. My past will not determine my future. I deserve love.” Sara exhaled deeply and collected herself. Coming from a broken home took its toll early in her life making her wary of being in serious relationships but she has come a long way.

“Are my girls ready?” Your father approached you. Sara shook her head giving a few more deep breaths before taking his arm.

————

“You’ll be fine Yoon,” you tried convincing him. “I’ve told them enough about you so they’re looking forward to this.” Yoongi found you after the ceremony You waited for your parents to be free after taking a few photos with Sara.

“And if they don’t like me?”

“They will,” you moved in for a kiss when you heard their voices approaching.

“Mom and dad this is Yoongi. Yoongi these are my parents Jonathon and Katherine.”

Yoongi bowed. “Very nice to meet you too.”

“You’ve been taking care of my daughter?”

“Y-yes sir. I’ve been doing my best to be a source of support for her.”

“Let’s talk over some drinks.” Your father sling an arm over his shoulder and walked him over to the bar.

“Should I be worried?” You looked on at the two men.

“No sweetie. Give them two to three drinks and maybe. It really shouldn’t be that bad since we can’t stay for long.”

“What? What do you mean I thought you guys were staying for a few days.”

“The office scheduled your father to perform a surgery in a few days and he has to be back home just in case there’s any sort of emergency.”

Dinner went by and the dancing started with the party going on well into the night. Your stepped in to fill the role of the father in the father daughter tm dance that finally had Sara shedding tears. There were even more tears between you and Sara when you had to say goodbye to your parents. Yoongi and Chungjae both stood to your sides waiting to comfort you.

“Come dance with me?” Yoongi urged you and you sullenly agreed. “Is there anything I can do?” You nodded your head resting on his chest for the slow song.

“I’m fine Yoon.”

“And you’re lying,” you felt the vibrations through his chest from his laugh.

“I’ll be fine. As fun as this day has been it’s been extremely, extremely long. I can’t wait to go home.”

“I can’t wait to take you home and get you out of that dress.” He pressed a kiss to your shoulder blade.

“Being home sounds amazing. A nice hot shower and getting straight into bed.”

————

“Yoongi,” you moaned at the feel of his mouth nipping along your neck. You felt his erection right against your inner thigh. His hand went from grabbing your ass to slowly making his way right to your center where he ran his fingers up and down your slit. He cradled your face with his free hand resting against your chin. His thumb caressed your lips when you greedily took it into your mouth sucking on it harshly. You loved the way his dick twitched in response.

“Fuck Y/n,” he took no time at all to turn you around and laid a slap against your ass cheek and you bit your lip in anticipation. “Is this what you want, hmm?” Another slap across your ass.

“Please baby I want to feel you in me,” you squirmed until Yoongi slid himself around your entrance. He smirked as he laid another smack to your ass.

“Work for your orgasm,” he breathed out huskily.

Without another moment going by you did as instructed backing up into him as you felt every achingly good inch go into you. Deciding to play his game you moved slow at first but didn’t take him in fully, always stopping shy of him bottoming out. You rolled your hips backing into him for a few minutes before he grew frustrated with your agonizing pace.

His left hand rested on your waist he grabbed your leg up and around him with his free hand and carefully but firmly thrusted up into you. “I’m close,” he croaked out. He didn’t let you reply when his hand came around to find your clit rubbing you into ecstasy. You were in the middle of your orgasm as you felt the tell tale signs of Yoongi coming.

Yoongi soon released you to turn you around to hug you once again. The shower stream gently hit his back as he left soft kissing in the crook of your neck.

#bts #bangtan sonyeondan #HOME fic #suga #min yoongi #agust d #bts suga #suga x reader #yoongi x reader #suga fic #yoongi fic #rm #kim namjoon #jin #kim seokjin #j hope #jung hoseok #jimin #park jimin #v #kim taehyung #jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts rm #bts jin #bts j hope #bts jimin #bts v #bts jungkook

[dreamsclock]

c!rivals getting a cottage core life they deserved

just the two of us au :’) this is the first time i’ve written techno since everything, and this made me pretty emotional to write. sorry if it’s not the best!! i really wanna turn this into a mini series where it’s just hurt/comfort for c!rivalsduo, because they really were one of my favourite duos and probably always will be. this was strange to write, but i don’t wanna stop writing c!techno — i think cc!techno would like it :’]

okay let’s get to c!rivals + this au !! premise: c!rivals are forced to flee to another server after breaking out of prison to find everyone egg-ified and chasing them down. they’ve got to survive and heal together while finding a way to take down the egg and save the smp while ALSO dealing with their own issues (and each other)!!!

It starts off simple, after they make their grand escape. It starts off with a drink.

Dream grunts when Techno slides a steaming cup over to him, twitching at the close contact to another person, but ultimately not budging. His face remains firmly planted on the surface of the poorly-crafted table, and his hands remain stubbornly fidgety and away from the mug. “You know I hate coffee,” he grumbles, “this is, like, the last thing I need.”

He’s tired, he’s sore, everything hurts to think about, and he just wants some quiet. But Techno is a welcome presence as ever, and snorts in amusement.

“Not coffee, though I’m gonna pretend like you didn’t insult my favourite drink to avoid issues between us.” His rival drawls. “Try it. Trust me.”

There are a lot of things Dream feels about Techno. Indebted is one of those things, begrudgingly wary is another, but… over the weeks and months they’ve been stuck together in prison, he reluctantly admits that he does trust Techno, more than he trusts anyone else on his server. Well. Maybe not more than Punz, but he doesn’t have Punz, whose eyes had been red and limbs had been vines when Dream had last seen him, he doesn’t have anyone that isn’t Egg-ified other than Techno.

Techno and Dream against everyone else. The prison has only gotten bigger, more habitable. The new server they’re in is Techno’s, big enough and hidden enough that they can live in comfort and in safety, though for how long that will last they can’t say. But there’s still the outside world, his SMP, the one invaded entirely by the Egg, that seeks to destroy them.

Just like the prison, Techno had sighed when they’d broken out, man, I was kinda hopin’ there wouldn’t be a part two to the prison.

…But long story short, he trusts Techno. He has to. So, with a sceptical look and long-suffering sigh, Dream lifts his head, gives his friend a scowl, and takes a sip.

He instantly blinks in surprise.

“This isn’t coffee.”

“Why would I make you coffee if you didn’t like it?” Techno grumbles. “‘Techno, we gotta run away to gather strength and figure out how to beat this Egg,’ he says. ‘I trust you to keep me alive, but not to give me drinks I actually like,’ he says. Dream, I feel hurt.”

“Okay, well— Listen. You can’t blame me.” Dream flushes, a furious shade of red he covers by taking another drink. “This is— This is actually good. Like really good.”

He hasn’t had hot chocolate in years. Not since before the SMP. The milky warmth is enough to strum a nostalgic string inside him, and soften some of the edges prison had harshened. Seeing this, Techno offers him a chuckle, sipping from his own cup smugly.

“Told you. Listen, it’s like I said in that cell. Things seem bad right now. In fact, they seem worse. We’ve escaped from the prison and from the server, but we have… immortal Egg servants huntin’ us down and no way to return unless we find a way to stop that thing at its source. All in all, it’s not lookin’ great for us. But,” he continues cheerfully, “I can make hot chocolate, and word on the street—”

“Don’t ever say that again.”

“—Word on the street is, you can make some mean cookies.” Techno raises an eyebrow. Dream contemplates denying it, but knows his scowl says it all. “I think the next couple of weeks are gonna be fun. Here,” he says, sliding his own mug over to Dream in solidarity, “it’s like a blood oath, except it’s hot chocolate. Because that’s absolutely what’s in my mug. And you should trust me on that. One hundred percent hot chocolate.”

Maybe if he hadn’t been so tired, maybe if he hadn’t been so run down, Dream would have picked up on the sarcasm. As it is, he takes a mouthful of Techno’s drink, grimaces when the coffee hits his tongue, and immediately spits it back out, gagging and spluttering.

“You— What the hell is wrong with you, Techno?!”

Techno gasps for air, cackling madly. “Oh my god, chat, his face. His face, chat. I can’t believe it. I can’t believe he fell for it. Oh, it’s a good day for Technoblade. It is a good day, chat. That’s one point to me, none to the homeless coffee-anti.”

Preoccupied with washing his mouth out and contemplating all the nasty insults and threats he could hit his rival with, Dream buries his head in his hands with a pathetic noise.

“This was the worst decision of our lives,” he bemoans, “I’m already regretting coming here with you.”

Techno grins, and pats him on the arm none-too-sympathetically.

“You got used to me in prison. You’ll manage again. I have every faith in you, even if chat doesn’t.”

But under his distressed front, Dream is smiling reluctantly, and despite the abuse and the torture and the exhaustion and the paranoia, he doesn’t once pull away from Techno’s hand.

#> just the two of us (au) #> c!rivals #> blood for the blood god #> that one clock guy #> sparrow’s writing !!

[zainnbug]

so ….i’ve been rewatching “The Spectacular Spider-Man” and i just wanted to give my lukewarm takes on it (just my own personal opinions!) prepare for horrible analysis and alot of words!!!!!

1. THE VILLAINS LOWKEY SUCK

i say this with an open mind because Spectacular Spider-Man is a kids show… but the villains are not good. I feel like there is very little build up on these characters origin stories and why the way they act like they do. For example electro, an ordinary repair guy who is involved in a work accident while working on machinery next to genetically altered eels. for me i just couldn’t understand where all his hatred was coming from except for the fact that he is never able to go back to his life. Like this guy is traumatized and now has to adjust to a new life that harms everyone and then boom he’s evil and hates Spider-Man (Too much Spider-Man hate and not enough I-hate-the-world kind of hate! ). There just wasn’t more of a build up to it, like i wished he tried to be like a hero just like Spider-Man then completely fucks everything up while trying to do good. I know certain life altering changes completely changes someone but i still wish he tried to cling onto his human characteristics (like his morals he once had from who he used to be). It would’ve been cool if he tried to be himself again more mentally and then threw that out the window cuz it was never gonna work out)That’s also one thing i see recurring with the villains is that they just hate Spider-Man…. But I still try to keep an open mind as it is a really short show and apparently electricity is the main source for all evilness in this show (literally).

2. He’s a hoe

heavy on this one cause pete cannot choose from liz, gwen, mj, black cat or that bugle secretary. He went from that shordy who worked at the bugle to mj to liz allan to black cat then to liz again then gwen then LIZ AGAIN then gwen again? it was like every 5 seconds he was switching sides …like oh man! liz is into me.. oh and gwen too!! and then he just wouldn’t make up his mind. This guy is a man whore I STILL REMEBER THE SCENE WHERE HE FINALLY DECIDED TO TALK TO GWEN AFTER THEIR KISS AND SHE BLEW HIM OFF SO HE STARTED THINKING ABT MJ WHILE SHE(MJ) WAS TALKING TO HIM. even she told him to get it together 😔 do better peterman

3. Mjs incredible personality✨

this one’s not too much of a big deal and i can tolerate it but it still irks me. Throughout the entire time of Mjs screen time is her personality which kind of ruins her character in this show. From the way she talks to how she flirts with everyone in the show bothers me. She flirts with nearly every guy in the show and she’s just… too flirty LIKE IT DOESNT FIT HER CHARACTER. It’s not the Mj i know but i still do luv. It’s just not in her character to act this flirtatious. It’s like she has no real personality other than being hot.

BONUS:

-the villains in this show were still enjoyable like otto octavius and venom, which are my personal favs. Also seeing marko stick up for a child being bullied and saving innocent people really did it for me. I also thought he was just some mindless spider-man hater but there’s a little more to it.

- despite peter being a hoe….erm i actually cannot find something good to say abt his hoe side srry y’all….

-despite Mjs flirty side, Mj is like the number one supporter for most of the characters in this show. She’s the one constantly checking on gwen and peter while also giving them relationship advice or just advice in general. Also she’s the first person to notice something is wrong. I like to call her a girls girl cuz she really looks out for the girls in the show.

thanks for reading my horrible takes i will be posting more like follow and subscribe if y’all actually read me yapping away and stay tuned y’all 🙏

#spider man #the spectacular spider man #peter parker #otto octavius #mj watson #across the spiderverse #i talk too much #gwen stacy #liz allan #atsv

[wolfsclothing6]

Coach's new training program is really great. It’s basically the same as our old one, but he has been mixing up my post-workout shake special. It looks like he takes the scoop or two of protein powder, some creatine, some milk, but then he takes it behind the counter for just a second. I hear him groan and grunt a bit, and I see his whole body shaking, but then he mixes it up and gives it to me. It tastes pretty good. A bit of a salty taste to it, but not too much. Still very drinkable. He tells me that if I have three or four a week, I will really improve. My lifts have all gone up, but there have been some other things. My chest has got really hairy. I used to keep it shaved smooth, but I have started to like it. In fact, my whole body has gotten decently hairy now. I have even started growing scruff on my face, which I used to hate. But coach tells me it looks good, so I’m keeping it.

He also has me flexing more, both for him and for myself. Any time I passed by a mirror I should do a pose and show off all of my hard work. The thought of showing off for other dudes has got my cock chubbing up now. Something about showing off, about presenting myself as someone to ogle and lust after gets me kinda turned on. Not only that, but I’ve really started scoping out the other jocks in the locker room. I like looking at their cock and balls, their big furry asses, and their nice chests. It will be hot to hang out with all the guys naked, just all of us throwing out our clothes and hanging out with each other. Doesn’t even have to be super gay, it can just be a bunch of bros relaxing with one another, not worrying about clothes getting in the way.

The reason I’m telling you all of this is because coaches told me I should start getting some extra protein "right from the source", he calls it. I’m supposed to go over to his place tonight, and he said I should plan on spending the night in his couch. Something about filling me up so much I won’t be able to go home that night. I’m not sure what he’s going on about, but I have had a craving for something recently. Haven’t been able to figure out what it is, but my stomach is grumbling something fierce.

Whatever he is willing to offer me, I hope he has a lot. He says I should finally make me into the perfect cub, whatever that means. He even bought me this jockstrap that says "Property of Coach" across the elastic band above the ass. Says I’m not to put it on until I’m his sexy little muscle cub. I don’t understand what all that means, but as long as I keep drinking his protein shakes and growing bigger, I really don’t care.

#gay #bear transformation #transformation #male transformation #fat #bear tf #daddy bear #fat belly #bear