#all in the beer garden where we’d planned on sitting

[adie-dee]

.

[forever-rogue]

Hi! If you're taking requests can I please request a fluffy piece of where Javi and his f!partner fell in love and Javi brings her home to Texas for the first time to meet his Dad. And at some point his Dad sees them being so cute and sweet with eachother and he's never seen Javi so happy before.

A/N: Enjoy some fluff and softness!

Pairing: Javi x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: mentions of pregnancy

MASTERLIST

JAVIER MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

“You’re nervous,” Javier’s tone was filled with amusement as he walked into the bedroom to find you in front of the mirror, holding up two different outfit options. The look on your face was nothing but pure distress as you realized that one outfit was too formal and the other was almost too informal. Sighing, you turned to him with a pout on your lips as held up the outfits, “Dulzura - what’s going on?”

“I’m not nervous!” 

“I’ve known you for years, I know that look on your face,” he came over and took both hangers from your hands and tossed them on the bed. Large, warm hands found your face as he pulled you in for a gentle, saccharine kiss, “calma, mi alma.”

“I’m not nervous, Javier,” you scoffed indignantly as he quirked a brow in question, "I'm fucking terrified! I'm meeting your whole family today for the first time! How am I not supposed to be nervous?"

"It'll be fine-"

"At your cousin's wedding-"

"They're going to adore you-"

"They're meeting me - your fiance - for the first time. At a huge wedding. With your entire family there,” you huffed, feeling your churn at the mere thought of it all, “it’s a little scary, Javi. And I don’t want them to think I’m trying to take away attention from anybody. I don’t want to be that person.”

“You’ve taken down Escobar and Cali,” he laughed warmly before pulling you into his arms as you buried your face into his shoulder, “and you’re nervous about a wedding?”

“Much scarier,” it was a pathetic whimper in protest.

“They already know about you,” he reminded you gently, “it’s not like this is the first they’re hearing about you.”

“I know,” pulling back, you cast a dismal glance at the outfits that were unceremoniously dumped on your bed, “I just want them to like me. It’s your family, Javi, they’ll be my family too.”

“They’re going to love you,” he insisted with an air of finality before pressing a kiss to your forehead. You couldn’t help but grin at him; the two of you had been through so much together and apart, and you knew that you really could handle anything life through you at the two of you, but this seemed...different. Insurmountable. 

Gone were the days of chasing after criminals and bad guys through the streets and jungles of Colombia and in were the days of quiet, domestic bliss. You’d already started building a home in Texas with him, and taken on the simple life you’d been dreaming of for some time. Nothing was going to take that away from you and get it still terrified you. 

“I love you,” you whispered as he offered you the grin you had fallen in love with so long ago. His soft brown eyes crinkled in the corners as his single dimple made its appearance, “Javi.”

“I love you,” he promised, “come on, let’s finish getting ready and get this over with. I have a few plans for you tonight.”

“Mhmm,” you rested your hands on his broad chest before lightly pushing back, causing him to jokingly pout at you. As soon as you heard the world plans, something sparked within you and you immediately knew what you wanted to wear. Turning towards the closet, you offered him a cheeky wink before pulling out a lacy red dress. His eyes instantly widened at the sight of the dress; it had always been one of his favorites on you, “what do you think? Too much?”

“It’s perfect, Dulzra,” he had to work to hold back a groan as he pictured you in it, “you’re going to knock them dead.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

Of course, Javier had been right. His family had taken to you like fish to water. Almost as if they could sense that they might overwhelm you all at once, they came over in small droves to introduce themselves and welcome you to their family. Honestly, you didn’t even have to say much as they were happy to do all the talking and Javier was more than happy to talk - brag - about you in detail and tell them everything about you. You were practically glowing from the praise, and found it easy and effortless to find your place within it all. 

But the singular most important person was Chucho - Javier’s father. You hoped he would like you, hoped he would think you were good for his son, hoped he would know how much you loved Javier. 

You were sitting at the table, eating some dessert and chatting with one of Javier’s cousins, Adrianna, when you heard a throat clear from behind you. Turning around, you found Chucho offering you a small smile and extended his hand to you.

“Do you have a moment, mija?” he asked softly as you nodded. Of course you weren’t about to turn him down. Your heart thumped nervously as you nodded and stood up, taking his hand while you tried to calm your racing mind; this wasn’t anything bad, this was good and you had nothing to worry about. Still - it felt like a huge task. 

“Of course,” you offered up a nervous smile as you let him lead you outside of the small reception hall and out into the gardens. You had spotted Javier talking to a few people, a beer clutched in his hand, and a megawatt grin on his face as he laughed at something. It was enough to suck the air from your lungs as you realized just how much you loved this man. Your longing little glance wasn’t lost on Chucho, who simply laughed to himself. As soon as you stepped outside, you took in a long breath of fresh air. You were glad you had come to Texas with Javier; it was beautiful here and you were happy to build a home, a family - a life here. 

“You really love him, don’t you?” he asked as he sat down on one of the benches and beckoned for you to join him. A flush of warmth rose up in your chest and cheeks as you nodded and sat down next to him, “I can tell. He loves you too - won’t ever stop talking about you. And the way he looks at you...I’ve never seen him look at anyone like that before.”

“Not even-”

“Not even Lorraine,” he explained as you let a small sigh of relief as he laughed at you, “you have nothing to worry about, mija. Javier’s not going anywhere. Do you know about the first time he told me about you?”

“No,” you cringed slightly, remembering the beginning of your relationship - just your work relationship. Needless to say it was not love at first; the two of you were constantly at each other’s throats, always having to have the last word. It was a slow progression from rivals to friends to lovers; but when you started falling in love with him, it was fast and hard and there was no stopping it.  You never really believed in soul mates, or someone being the one, but with Javier...you just knew. He was the one and only for you. Just like he had changed your perspective on many things, you had caused him to completely change too. You made him in the best possible version of himself, he always claimed.

“Oh mija,” he laughed as he took a sip of his beer, “he called me and he was absolutely livid, he went on and on about the new partner he had, how he couldn’t stand her, how she was too much and he was positive she wouldn’t last.”

“Yeah, that sounds about right. Javi and I didn’t like each other for a long time,” you laughed; you still remembered the look on his face the day you had met him. It was anything but love back then, “we were at it for a long time. I didn’t know if we’d ever get along but...obviously things turned out very differently. I love him, a lot. More than anything really.”

“It’s obvious,” he agreed, “I can just see it in the way the two of you look at each other. He’s different now - better, more himself. You’ve helped him more than now.”

“He’s helped me too,” you admitted softly. The two of you had been through so much both separately and together - more darkness and demons than many people have ever seen. But it was like you always managed to chase the darkness away from one another, bringing in some light and love into each other’s lives in every which way,  I really don’t know what I’d do without him. I hope...I hope I have your blessing to marry your son. Nothing in the world would make me happier.”

“Of course,” he took your hand and gave it a gentle squeeze as you sniffled lightly in an attempt to hold back your tears, “our family is yours. Javier made the best choice ever with you.”

“You have no idea how much that means to me,” you grinned at him and suddenly the whole world seemed lighter. You knew that in the end you would stay with Javier, no matter what happened, but knowing you were so welcome in their family and already so loved made everything better, “I was so nervous at first...I know how much you mean to Javi, and it means a lot to me too.”

“You’re very important to us too,” he promised, “we’ve been looking forward to meeting you since the day he told us about you. Will you tell me one thing? And if Javier doesn’t know yet, I promise I won’t breathe a word to him…”

“What is it?” your heart leapt in your chest as you wondered what he could be asking you, although you had a feeling you knew. 

“When is my grand baby coming? When are you due?” as soon as he asked his question your jaw dropped and you looked at him with wide eyes. You weren’t even showing yet, and didn’t think it was that obvious, “oh come on, I had a wife once, and she had Javier. I’ve been around enough pregnant women to know when someone is expecting. Plus you didn’t touch a drop of alcohol - and that’s kind of apparent at a wedding. He doesn’t know, does he?”

“I found out a few weeks ago,” you admitted sheepishly, a hand subconsciously going to your belly, “I’m almost three months along. We weren’t planning it or not planning it, and it just happened. It took me by surprise too. But I...I’m so excited. Javier is going to be a great father and I’m so excited to share all of this with him. I never thought I wanted all of this - a husband, a child, a home and a family but...I do. With Javier. Sure, things aren’t always perfect, but I wouldn’t want anyone else.”

“Kids in love,” he laughed lightly as you shrugged in agreement, “when are you going to tell him?”

“Do you think I should tell Javier now?”

“Tell Javier what?” at the sound of his familiar voice, you turned around and found Javier walking up to the two of you. You looked nervously at Chucho for what to do, but he just jerked his head in Javier’s direction and nodded, “what’s wrong, Dulzura?”

“Javi,” you stood up and reached for his hand, which he eagerly took and laced his fingers together with yours. You kissed his cheek before softly whispering, “I have something big to tell you.”

“Something big to tell me?” he asked with a raised eyebrow, “what - you’re nervous again...it’s not like we’re going to have a baby or anything!”

At his declaration, your mouth dropped and you gaped at him like a fish out of water for a few moments. Noticing your hesitation, his face went through a series of expressions, “umm...Javier? You’re going to be a father, my love. So yes, it is like we’re having a baby.”

“Seriously?” he asked in surprise as his hands went to either side of your face and he wiped away the few tears that had rolled down your cheeks, “Dulzura…”

“Surprise,” you grinned at him before he kissed you, “are you happy, Javi? Please tell me you’re happy.”

“I am perfect,” his reassurance was gentle and soft as he nuzzled his nose against yours, “this is everything I never knew I wanted. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Javier.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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[likesomekindofcheese]

Promised Part Five (The Great Mini-series, Arranged Marriage AU)

A/N: Here it finally is!!!! Sorry it took forever, life happens.

Word Count: 4K

Summary: When the Emperor’s behavior gets your families alliance with Russia in danger, you agree to marry his best friend Grigor in order to make sure the alliance does not fall apart. You’re tossed into the Russian court and into the arms and bed of a Russian count, dodging his jealous ex lover, trying to survive the unpredictability.... but...what about yuou two? Are you and Grigor finally...feeling something for each other?

Warnings: Swearing, drunkeness, mentions of sex and nudity, marriage, and an in universe reference I couldn’t resist.

“Come here Sonya! Come here!” Lady Svenska cooed, wiggling her fingers.

The puppy trotted to her and she squealed in delight.

Tatiana bent her knees, her lime green dress bunching below her like icing on a cake as she did.

“Sonya! Sonya come!” she gestured.

With a happy trot, Sonya waddled over. She reached up, her tiny tail wagging.

“Oooo, good girl! Good girl!”

You had been invited to a tea party with the other ladies. Although you had gotten closer to the empress, you feared if they would see you as an enemy. Especially hearing of Catherine’s last tea party with them. So walking in, you brought your secret weapon. And it worked.

The only woman it seemed who was not having the time of her life with what was happening was Georgiana. Dressed in her purple gown and largest wig, she sat a little slumped on the couch. She was sipping her tea every now and then but crossing her arms. She stared daggers at the dog and how it trotted. She preferred any small circle that came over to obsess over the latest scandalous affair, but even then she kept one eye on Sonya as if the dog was a wolf ready to attack. She didn’t dare say a word to you. And you didn’t say a word to her. But if there was nothing said, then nothing bad could happen.

Smiling, you helped yourself to a red macaroon, delighting in the crunch and cream of it’s taste. Lady Svenska walked over to you and asked.

“Can she do tricks?” she questioned.

“Almost. She’s getting better at walking. She used to pull and run a lot, but she’s better at being obedient.”

“And she doesn’t tear things up?” she asked.

“Only sometimes. I have to watch where my dresses are stored,” you answered.

“Ah! She’s such a good dog! How lovely of you to bring her here, Madame Dymov!”

Georgiana’s eyes went dark.

“Will you come to our ball throwing this evening! It is most fun! Mine might go another inch!”

“I’d be delighted to! And be sure to tell me more about that maid with the baron old enough to be her grandfather too! And with copous details!” you added on.

“Oh! I do like you! And what of the Empress?”

“Well, we read. And we chat…”

“But all that reading!? Isn’t it time consuming!”

“A little. Her books can take time. I reread pages over and over…but in the best way. I suppose. It keeps her happy.”

“If you have any gossip about her, please share!”

“I..I, uh, will!” you promise.

“First of all, have you any plans or gifts to give her on her birthday, it’s coming up in about a month!”

“Hmm, I don’t know…” you mumbled.

At that moment your husband entered the room. He seemed a little uncomfortable with all of the flowers and pastel dresses, eyeing birds singing ditties in shiny cages and macaroons piled to his chest on platters.

“Oh, Y/N…where is Y/N?” he asked to one lady in a pink dress and grey wig.

She pointed in your direction and he smiled.

As he walked by, he passed the couch where Georgiana was sitting. Her shoe tapped his calf and he turned.

“Hello, Grigor…” she said with a faded grin.

“Hello, George,” he replied politely. Somehow, your blood felt hot. But yet, the marriage was over, so what if they even talked? He probably just enjoyed you talking with him and occasionally sleeping with him. But no, they had to be soulmates. And it was better not to disturb them. After all, despite the suddenness of the marriage, it would work. He would be happy.

“How is the party?” he asked, hands placed behind the back.

“Going perfect. We’re being introduced to the loud, hairy creature that lifts her leg when she pisses. Her dog is there too.” She quipped with a surprisingly relieved smile.

You froze. Little Sonya recognized Grigor and ran up to him, oblivious to how white his face was turning. A few fans were spread, and you barely heard feminine whispers of “…quite bitchy…” It got a little quiet. Even with the string quartet in the back was playing at a piano as if they wanted to hear what would happen next to.

Getting up, you turned around to leave them alone. Let them take it out. Let him laugh, Let her smile. Maybe even fuck against the wall like you noticed the odd couple doing on a night of reveling in the palace, no matter who might see or hear.

“George. I can’t control what you do on your own. But when you are with me, you will not speak about my wife in that matter.”

Pausing, you turned around. A couple quiet tears fell down your cheeks.

“You’re an esteemed lady of the court with the world at your fingertips. She’s a poor creature thrown into an arranged marriage, stolen from another country, and little to never to see any of her family or friends again while you just lay down and let Peter put fruit in your pussy and drink champagne.”

Wiping away tears with your hands, you stood still, not sure what to say. Grigor continued, truly angered and passionate.

“I didn’t marry her because of you. And she didn’t marry me so she could have my cock when you couldn’t. I did this so that we all- we all-“ he gestured to the people in the room “won’t be fucking ripped apart by Swede’s in a fortnight thanks to her families army. You will show her what little compassion you have in your tiny heart. You could even show her an ounce of gratitude for the sacrifice she and I made for the safety of everyone here, including yours. Or else I could have said no and let the swedes stab you in your tits when you’re asleep in the emperor’s bed. And I wouldn’t lose a wink of sleep over it too. But I did.”

She froze. There was even a couple of gasps.

Scooping the tiny dog in his arms, he turned ot you promptly.

“I hope you’re enjoying yourself.”

“I…I am…” you answered. “But I’m tired, let’s go home and play cards.”

“I agree.”

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

 A week later, Grigor had partied so much with the Emperor last night, wrestling and playing with some man named Leon or whoever. You peaked in the door, and yawning, retired to your own apartments to sleep even if alone.

Waking up briefly in the grey air, you felt him crawling into bed at four in the morning. So you let him sleep in as you took Sonya on her morning walk. Besides, she would pout and whine if you didn’t walk at her certain time.

“Here you go, I know, Papa can’t be there-but I will,” you assured the dog.

You made your way through the halls into the gardens. Sonya was already getting bigger. The collar and leash made for her a while ago was getting snug on her fluffy body.

Enjoying the forest, you heard the rhythmic crunch of the leaves and sticks beneath Sonya’s prancing paws. The cold air stung your lungs in the best way. The sky looked clear and crisp.

Sonya pointed her snout in one direction. She began pulling and barking.

“What is it? Some sort of creature!” you thought, walking forward.

It wasn’t a mouse of squirrel, there was a person slumped against a tree, sitting on the dirt. Walking closer, you made out a dark green skirt and a hat, but a head of dark, curly hair made loose. She reeked of vodka and beer. Her face was pale to where she seemed ill, rather than the lovely cream color of her skin. And beneath her eyes there were several bags.

“G..Georgiana…”

She turned her head to you, squinting.

“Yes…” she grunted.

“What are you doing here?”

She began to laugh a little, bitterly.

“I could ask the same…what are you doing here?”

“I’m walking Sonya…she needs to be exercised so she won’t get into trouble from being bored,” you explained, gripping the leash.

“Huh, I know sometimes…sometimes Grigor goes with you…” her voice was deep and throaty, far from her usual speaking tone. As if every word was choked up.

She seemed so pitiful you didn’t have the heart to chafe her.

“Yes, yes he does…”

Her exhausted eyes wandered forward into the grove of trees. She kept speaking to you.

“Sometimes we’d walk together. Only if it was nice. We did everything together. Walking. Eating. Dancing. Bathing together. Did you know…I even got my portrait painted and he kept it in his room! Right next to his bed…he…he cared for me so much to where I was right there with him every morning even when I wasn’t next to him and now…now he hates me…”

She began to sniffle, and a few tears worked up.

“No. No, I don’t think he hates you at all…”

“Why did he speak to me that way?”

“He just…he got emotional. And he has been emotional because he loves you. He’s every bit as sad as you are for not marrying…”

Sonya walked over to the crying woman. Alerted by the sounds, she walked over and sniffed at her wet face. She broke out  a smile.

“But the truth is…in this court, there’s plenty of women who’ve fucked Peter. More than half. That’s just a fact of life. But I… I love it. I love having men want me, being worshipped, loved, is that wrong?”

“It’s normal,” you admitted. “it’s normal to want to be loved.”

“And the things it gives you. It’s not the least bad. I have all sorts of things. Dresses. Hats. A high position in court. Security. Comfort. Occasionally I can change laws and save lives with just a word-imagine that! And jewels. Jewels I used to dream of having. And I get to enjoy making love to a man who’s skilled at it. It might be the only way for a woman here to move up. That’s the way it is, is that wrong? Is it wrong to enjoy fucking and love a man too? For them to be separate men? They do it all the time and no one bats an eye bit when I do…”

She finally fell down into sobs.

“And he just...he couldn’t accept it. He claimed he loved me, and I… I love him, I still do, he just couldn’t accept me as I am and this world as it is…I thought he knew me…and that I knew him…”

She began to cry more; Sonya reached over and began to lick her face. She laughed at the ridiculous feeling of a dog’s tongue right on your nose and you began to laugh too.

“Georgiana…I’m so sorry I yelled at you that first day…I saw you as a threat and didn’t stop to think what you would feel. How I would feel if I was in your shoes…”

“Ugh, you’re…you’re as saccharine as…as…I don’t even know, Y/N. I’d put you in my…my mouth and my blood would rush, and they’d have to let it out with slugs.”

Taking out a handkerchief, you began to wipe her tears from her face.

“I’m not the one in tears…but…he used to keep a portrait of you…” you questioned.

“He did…is it there? Maybe….”

“Not anymore…” you explained flatly.

So that explained the circular area on the wall next to the bed.

“I know you really do love Grigor. And you care for him…but loving someone is hard. I love my family and friends back home, or unless I wanted to make all of them suffer or even get killed, I had to let them go to come here…sometimes, there are things you have to let go and move on from…” you assured her. You aren’t a bad person for wanting those things. You’re a smart person for figuring out how to get them. I admire you for it.”

“I just keep wondering…I keep wondering what would happen if he said yes…if he agreed to the terms…we’d be so happy…”

And he would see you with Peter and be miserable. Then god knows what would happen you thought.

You took her arm and helped her to her shaky legs.

“But there’s no use in that. Here, let’s get you back to the palace. I think after you get some water and some sleep, you might feel better…”

“But Y/N, Grigor I think…he’s in denial how Peter works here. If a woman needs anything in court, and if Peter picks you…he picks you. And, well, there’s nothing you can do about it…”

Your stomach lurched.

    “Grigor might want a faithful wife. He might’ve thought he got that with you but…defying the Emperor is a risk. Too huge. Why say no? After all, he’s a genius at fucking so it could be worse…”

“You need water, Georgiana. And you need to clean up. Then you’ll feel better…” you interrupted, trying to mother her away and ignoring the fear in your gut.

 But as you were strolling later in the week, returning from another one of the Empresses’s private discussions, you saw a few ladies eye down at the book. Perhaps they judged you. Perhaps they were jealous. But one bespecaled face saw you, smiled, and then hurried up.

“Orlo! How are you?”

“Y/N-er-Madame Dymov! Enough about me already- I heard the Empress gave you a copy of the Rousseau! What do you think!?” he asked excitedly.

His dark eyes glittered at the book in your hands. Holding it up to him you let him inspect it.

“I was…I was shocked at first. His ideas felt like…like a blast of cold wind. But I…he made good points. And I found myself agreeing after some time…” you explained with a shrug.

“He’s one of my favorites, and tehre’s so much…so much inside there. But I…I wish I could explain it all…”

“Let’s go to my place, I’ll call for a plate...” you offered with a shrug and a smile.

Introducing him to the drawing room, he settled down shyly on the seat in front of the fire. You brought in some tea with a strawberry cake and wound up talking for a straight hour. He got his own turn to pet on little Sonya as she licked his fingers from the cake crumbs. You discussed Rousseau, then he went on to talk about Voltaire, Plato, Paine. Ideas stretched you and you found yourself talking about things you could never imagine debating about with anyone. About people. Power. Faith. Life. Death. Purpose, if there was one at all. Your cup became cold and you had to reheat it by pouring some liquid into it.

Orlo glowed as he explained it all. He was not condescending. In fact, it felt like being in school with  a good teacher. You understood and appreciated it even more. You were amazed with the depth of knowledge he had. Beneath his mousy exterior, there was a brilliant mind. Perhaps even genius. You were amazed in him. Strands of his hair loosened out and he smiled more, seeming relaxed and confident. Far more confident than you ever knew him to be in public.

“But out of all of them, I think my favorite is…”

The door creaked as it opened.

His head turned and you saw Grigor walking in. His face was pink, and his eyebrows crossed.

“Hello Orlo, what are you doing with my wife?” he asked, his lips tight and his voice firm.

“I, uh…” he found himself blubbering. His posture slouched and his hands retreated.

Standing at once, you walked up to Grigor with as much poise as you could.

“The empress gifted me with a book and Orlo was asking me about it over tea, nothing more…” you explained plainly.

“It’s fascinating. Isn’t it!” you added, throwing back a look.

Orlo nodded shyly, getting out of the seat like it had spikes.

“Very.”

“Oh, alright…” Grigor replied quietly.

Once Orlo thanked you for hosting him and shuffled out, Grigor’s eyes never left his steps.

 He was quiet over dinner. You had to ask questions about his day and have Sonya’s begging fill the silence. Later, you changed into your nightgown to see Grigor was already in bed.

You saw him curl up to the other side. Not turning around, holding the blanket over his shoulders and leaving your side disproportionally cold.

With a huff, you placed your hands on your hips.

“What is it?” You had a guess, but you wanted to hear it from him.

“Nothing. Nothing’s wrong” he said in a tone that said something was definitely wrong.

“What is it…tell me…” you wheedled, sitting on the bed and leaning closer to him.

He turned around.

“I understand we agreed to follow orders to marry. Not for us. Our countries, the safety of your family and for their workers and tenets to not go hungry, for protection, the alliance, and for Russia to succeed against the Swedes… but I know you didn’t choose to marry me…if you…if you…are in love… then I guess it would make it easier…but you will at least be honest with me and not play around when you fall in love with some man!”

“In love? With Orlo?!” you added.

His head snapped back at the sound of his name.

“If you love the prick, then that’s fine! It will make you bear being here better- it’s all fine!” He if it will make you bear this, bear being married to me…”

“I’m not in love with Orlo!” you laughed, placing a hand on his shoulder. He flinched a little, but didn’t turn away.

“What…you aren’t? Both of you always talk together.”

 “I always talk with the empress, and Tatyana and everyone else too. They’re my friends. He’s my friend as well… and…I…I promised you I won’t hurt you. That I will do my best not to hurt you…and you’re obviously hurt…” you reasoned.

The clock chimed the hour in the back.

“I…yes, I was…I had memories of when…you know…” he muttered out, looking down.

You folded your arms and turned away from him.

“Well, have you ever kissed Georgiana since our marriage? I guess you can run back to her, like I’m apparently running to Orlo. Should I be worried about her?”

“Uh-no! Not at all! We’ve barely talked since the betrothal! I talk more to Sonya than I do to her in a fortnight!” he said, pointing to the dog curled asleep on her pillow.

You crossed your arms and started to laugh a little. A smile cracked on his thin face as well.

“If I have no reason to suspect you of anything with George, you have no reason to suspect anything of me and Orlo!” you reasoned with a shrug.

Leaning forward, you pulled more of the cover to your side. He relented.

 Both of you were tense. Words left your voice.

“Just dinner and drinks with your friend, nothing more. Perfectly normal.” You assured.

Even if it meant eating in his chambers with large portraits all over the wall and a big green bed on the other side. Peter stood up and greeted you both. His arms were wide, pearls dangling from his neck.

“Ah, hello! Join me!” Peter cheered. “Grigor-make yourself at home! There’s already some food.

You carefully walked in, placing yourself on the couch and folded your hands in front of your lap. Unsure of what to do or say. A finger nudged you.

“Here, Y/N…here’s the seat for you!” your husband said, taking his large hands around your waist and picking you up as you let out a smile.

Grigor placed you on his lap, like he did on your wedding. Smiling, you accepted the feeling of him nearby and settled your weight. The closeness far more natural than ever. Grigor’s arms were warm as they passed dishes around from one man to the Emperor. A serf poured a Kiev vdoka and you enjoyed yourselves.

“I tell you- fucked a horse! It’s just a rumor-but can you believe it!” he said.

Laughing in spite of yourself, you shook your head insisting “no, I don’t!”

Smiling. Laughing. Everything felt normal. You laughed so hard you almost snorted your drinkand covered your mouth, laughing more at the dirtier humor. Years ago, your mother would have become so uncomfortable at such words she would excuse herself and complain about it later. Laughs held back were finally released, you jaw uhrt and your cheeks felt hot.

“And that’s what hapoens when you use the duck whistle on the balcony-“Oh, Grigor! Have I fucked your wife yet?”

The drink you were sipping almost spat out of your mouth and you coughed it out. Both of you froze again. You felt Grigor tense up. His breath quickened. His face turned white and then red and then white again. His jaw clenched and his nostrils flared.

Turning your head back, you began to give a charming smile at the emperor, even giving the little half smile you noticed to do. You decided if the subject came up, you would be prepared.

“Your highness, of yes, of course we’ve fucked. Several times!” you said.

Where he couldn’t see, you kicked Grigor’s leg to alert him.

“Oh, really!” he said.

“Ah! What a Casanova you are, Emperor! Losing track! But…”

You circled the rim of your glass, and then added on.

“I have an eternally dry pussy, can’t suck cock to save my life, and an ass so tight that deflects any object near the hole so it’s been rather disappointing. It’s a miracle my husband tolerates me. He’s hardly been able to finish the job!”

He tilted his head, pondering it with a hmmmm. Glancing at Grigor, you quickly mouthed “play along.” His eyes bright, he nodded at you, and then to the Emperor in agreement.

“Yes! Fucking Y/N is a total disappointment. Remember her place? They’re boring, plain people even when fucking.”

Peter nodded in agreement, his eyes up to the sky as if thinking about the fake experience. Not that it was to think.

“Humph. I…I think you’re right. It was disappointing. Grigor, if you need me to order you a whore, let me know.”

You kept your hand on his and you saw his eyes dart in confusion and realization, his brain thinking a hundred thoughts.

“Please pour me another drink…” you said, holding your cup to a serf.

“Besdies, Catherine…she’s been having all these ideas about art. And I saw a portrait and I…I cried! I fucking cried-can you believe it? I never knew she could..could even make me feel like that!”

 As you left the chambers, you squeezed his hand. Both of you let out a breath and continued some nervous laughter until you were both home.

“That was brilliant!” He praised, sinking in relief in the chair. There was already a fire crackling, drawing warmth into the chilly room.

“I knew he would bring it up, soon. So, I might as well. Now you don’t have to worry about anything…at least for now…” you said with a shrug.

“Oh, but the party tomorrow…you’ll be careful. I think people will be very merry and he might…get carried away…”

“Just give him a galloon a vodka then, he’ll won’t be able to stand.”

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

As the party the next night raged on, it struck you that it was Grigor who was well on his way to drinking a gallon of vodka. The rooms glowed yellow orange with all of the candles. Stringed guitars played out dancing tunes with throaty Russian lyrics where although the words were hard to understand, you had to tap your toes. Women walked by with snakes draped over their necks and you stared in frightened awe at the creature, as if in Eden. Your own gown was a pale pink with bows on the stomacher, a ruffled skirt beneath the first one, and you hair done up in flowers and feathers. You even agreed to wear a beauty mark of a small dog on your cheek. Girgor himself had a grey wig and his finest, deep green suit. He eyed plates of vodka, reaching for two small glasses and downing them…and supper would be served in an hour.

You noticed and Empress and Emperor dancing. She swished her pale pink skirt and he twirled in a black skirt, carefree. It was almost like watching a fight, how they were both powerful yet matched each other.”

“Come on, you sad bastards!? Why aren’t you dancing!? Dance! I command you!” Peter cried out in joy.

“Y/N! Y/N- we haven’t danced too much-let’s dance! Dance with me!” Grigor insisted, pulling you further down.

“Grigor, that’s the vodka talking!”

The musicians were warming up for the next piece in the corner.

“I…I don’t know the…” you mumbled in a panic as other couples filled the floor.

“Oh no-just follow me!” He said with a big smile and his face flushed.

  Still you ran out with him, mimicking hand movements and your feet trying to keep up with the steps. If you felt him leading you somewhere, you followed. If you sepearted in lines, you kept an eye on him.

“Girgor…do the trick! The trick!” Peter insisted, running up in the middle.

Eyes wide, you saw your husband grab hold of your body.

“Here. Y/N! I can do it- hold on! Jump up.

He lifted you up in his arms and twirled you up, his arms adjusting to hold you up so that he held you up by your legs, your stomach to his face. You could hear him muffling beneath your clothes.

“We need smof practif…”

But Peter laughed and you heard loud applauding as faces turned to look at you. Even George’s own face had a smile, albeit a sad one.

He set you down.

“Let’s try it again, put your leg on my shoulder…now your other leg..ooof! Now, this one is better!”

He lifted you up so high, you realized you were on his shoulders, and emabarrasingly his head was near your crotch. The court applauhded and laughed and huzzahed. It was so fun you almost forgot your fear of being dropped. you laughed as you held onto his shoulders for deaer life, thrilled to see everyone smaller before you. As if they dhrunk or you became a giant. The chandeliers dripping with diamonds were easy to your touch, your fingertips grazed one as Grigor walked in a circle.

“Ha! I knew you could do it good chap!” Peter applauded before asking.

Grigor placed you down with a smile, he placed his hands on your cheeks and for a moment you thought he was going to kiss you, then his eyes wandered to some vodka and he took another shot.

 He was singing as the party ended late in the night. You struggled to support him over your shoulders.

“Grigor…be careful…”

Once you got into the room, Sonya woke up from her nap and barked, jumping at your feet. Staggering, you brought him to your bedchambers.

“Let’s get your clothes off…” you said, pulling his coat off and placing it on the floor.

“You wish to see me naked, you could’ve asked, darling…”

Sighing, you poured the hot water into the golden tub.

“If you don’t bathe, then you’re sleeping with Sonya…”

He leaned down in his shift and breeches to the wagging tail beneath him.

“Oh….hello doggie, cute doggie…good doggie…”

“To bath, Grigor!”

Eventually, you got him to bathe enough to where he didn’t reek of alcohol. Once he dried off, you pushed his breeches onto him.

“None of that tonight with you drunk off your head!”

“Can’t I at least kiss you?” he complained childishly.

“Fine, but it stops at kissing!”

Once you finally settled within your own sheets, legs and feet sore from dancing, you barely put the blankets over you when  you felt two large arms wrap themselves around you and hug you tight, pulling you close. He laughed a bit before kissing you on top of your head. You smirked and let him obloge. Then you felt him relax.

“Y/N, I love you….”

You froze solid, your stomach dropping.

“What?”

He took a hand and placed it on your cheek again, before it sloppily fell down.

“Y/N, my sweet angel…I love you…”

Shaking your head, you pulled the covers above you both.

“That’s the vodka talking, now go to sleep….”

He went back to holding you, turning you so that your back was turned to him, you felt and smelt his breath as he kept speaking.

“I love you, Y/N. I’m falling in love with you this minute and…I’m fucking terrified…”

You let his arms settle.

“Don’t wanna…get hurt, get shat on…but every day I’m….falling more in love with you…and it makes me both so happy and scared I could fucking scream…that was why Orlo fucking scared me, and Peter, that wonderful, bastard. I love him, but if he lays a hand on you, I swear to god…”

“Grigor…you need to sleep. You’re drunk. Only time will wear it off.”

Besides, it was better to not get your hopes up.

‘I can’t believe I’m fucking falling in fucking love all over again…never thought after George that I would….never would let myself…thought ”

“But Grigor…you….”

“I’d like to see you…see you happy. See your smiling face before I sleep.”

You gave him a small smile and his eyes fluttered shut.

“Grigor…do you…do you love me….do you really love me…”

You gave him a small smile. He then rolled on his belly, spread like a starfish. He was snoring deeply in minutes.

“Because I think I’m falling in love with you too…” you wanted to say.

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[pregnant-piggy]

Picking a venue

part three of The Wedding, series masterlist

Sirius Black x reader

Words: 1350

A/N: I dreamt this part and it was one of the best dreams I’ve ever had

GIF not mine

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

‘Sirius it is just one afternoon! Stop being a baby!’

Sirius was holding you tight and didn’t let you go. You were supposed to go help Lily and James with their wedding-venue and you already were late.

A week ago Lily and James had announced their engagement. They had asked you to help them with the planning, since you were by far the best one from your friend group when it came to planning things. Sirius and James were just terrible, Remus always forgot his planning and Lily tried to do more than what she had planned. The only other good planner was Peter, but no one had heard from him yet.

Sirius and James had gone to his house a few days ago, but the space was deserted. This had only lead to more stress for Lily, so you were happy today was about something joyful.

At least, if Sirius ever let you go. Currently you were trapped in his arms while he was kissing the back of your neck. In any other situation you would have stayed home, but you had promised Lily and James and you were not planning on breaking that promise.

‘I just missed you so much,’ Sirius mumbled against your skin. You stopped resisting and turned around to your boyfriend.

‘I know you have, I have missed you too,’ you said and kissed his forehead. Sirius tried to kiss you but you withdrew. ‘But I missed my friends too.’

Sirius grumbled, but his grip weakened. You got up and pulled down your dress. ‘I’ll see you tonight, honey.’ You kissed Sirius one last time and walked out of the room.

On your way to the front door you came across Remus. His head was buried in his book and he almost bumped into you.

‘I left food in the fridge for you and Pads for tonight,’ you said when Remus looked up to you.

‘And what will you eat then?’ Remus asked absently.

‘I’m having dinner with Lily and James, remember? We’re going venue-picking today?’

‘Oh, yeah. Have fun!’

Remus disappeared into his room and you shook your head. Never try to get an answer out of a reading Remus.

The front door closed behind you and you ran down the stairs. Lily had asked you to meet her in front of their apartment building at three. It was now five to three and it was a fifteen minute walk, ten if you walked fast.

A lot faster than you liked, you walked to the place you were supposed to meet. Your hands got cold from the wind. It was early March and still cold. While the sun did shine, the air was cold and the wind numbed your fingers. Putting your hands in your pocket you sped up. Maybe if you walked faster you would get warmer.

‘(Y/N)! Just on time!’ James exclaimed as you reached the couple. You shot him a glare; you knew you were late.

‘I’m sorry, Sirius…’ you said and Lily immediately nodded.

‘No point. Ready?’

‘Born ready,’ you said with a smile and hooked your arm with Lily’s.

- -- -

The whole afternoon you spent at the most beautiful gardens and old buildings. James almost fell in the water when he tripped over a tree trunk, so that venue was declined quickly.

‘I don’t want to fall on my wedding day,’ Lily stated at the restaurant that evening.

The three of you were sitting in a small restaurant. Lily was sipping her white wine, looking tired but content. James was sitting next to her with his arms around her shoulder, staring at his beer. He had definitely thought that picking venues would be a far more interesting activity.

Lily and you were going over every venue you had visited.

‘I liked the first one,’ you said, playing with the straw of your gin tonic. ‘On a sunny day that garden is beautiful. And there was enough room for a lot of guests.’

‘That’s true, but don’t you think it will be too cold? And what if it rains? I think I liked the old library better. That one has a garden too.’

‘You know you have Remus’ vote on that one,’ you chuckled. ‘But I agree. You could get married outside, but you’ll still have the option to have the wedding inside when it rains.’

‘What do you think, sweetie?’ Lily asked James and he looked up from his beer. By the look in his eyes you could see he had not been paying attention at all.

‘Yeah, I uhh- I agree,’ he mumbled.

‘So should I call?’ Lily asked and she didn’t look tired anymore.

‘They are open ‘til eight,’ you said and looked at the time. ‘If you’re quick you can make it.’

Lily took her phone and hurried outside. Through the window you could see her talking cheerful in her phone. You turned to James who was also watching his fiancée.

‘Heard anything from Peter yet?’

James turned around to you. ‘No, Sirius and I left a note at his house, but we haven’t heard anything back. I try not to think of it too much. And prevent to talk about it with Lily, she-’ he turned around to make sure she was still outside ‘-can’t handle it too well. Last night when we walked home after a night out and she saw a rat, she broke down in tears and I had to carry her home.’

James played with the label of his beer bottle and you could see he was worried about Lily.

‘I just think it was all too much for her. Me, Remus and Sirius gone, Peter disappeared and then her parents’ death. If you hadn’t proposed to her, Merlin knows how she would’ve looked now,’ you said softly and shut up when Lily walked back over to your table.

‘What were you talking about?’ she asked when she sat down.

‘Quidditch,’ you and James said at the same time and laughed at each other surprised.

‘Oh, so nothing,’ Lily said and she took a sip of her wine. ‘Well, the venue is booked! They said we have to come by this week to sign some papers and then it’s official.’

‘Oh, Lily, I am so happy for you!’ You raised your glass. ‘To the future Potters!’

James and Lily cheered and at the same time your phone rang. You answered it and were greeted by Remus’ voice.

‘How’s dinner?’

‘Dinner is great so far. Lily and James booked a venue!’

‘That’s wonderful!  Tell them I’m happy for them.’

‘You’re on speaker phone, Moony, they can hear you.’

‘Oh, well in that case; I’m happy for you guys! Where is it?’

‘It’s the old library in the centre of the city,’ Lily answered. ‘You know the one with the gargoyles?’

‘That’s a gorgeous building,’ Remus sighed.

‘We’d thought you would say that,’ you chuckled. ‘Why did you call?’

‘I uhh… might not have listened when you told me about dinner…’

‘There is pasta in the fridge. You only have to heat it,’ you sighed.

‘Oh, right,’ Remus said. ‘Sirius! Food’s in the fridge! (Y/N) left it for us!’

You heard Sirius walk into the room. Over the phone you looked at Lily and James and with a roll of your eyes you told them it was always like this. These boys wouldn’t survive one day without you.

‘That’s what I said!’ Sirius said to Remus.

‘I’m sorry! I just wanted to be sure!’ Remus said back.

‘I think you’re good now!’ you laughed in the phone. ‘I’ll see you tonight. Love you.’

‘Love you more!’ Sirius yelled through the phone and you could practically hear Remus roll his eyes.

You put your phone away and turned to your two friends in front of you. Lily was still laughing and James was grinning now. The waiter arrived with your food and James dove into it like he hadn’t eaten in days.

‘So wedding dress shopping tomorrow?’ you joked and Lily almost choked on her food. ‘I’m only kidding, Lils.’

‘I know, I know,’ she said and coughed. ‘You just surprised me.’

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

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[nerdzzone]

Light After Dark: Chapter Eleven

Summary: Brooke Harris was trying her best to be grateful. As the world tackled the COVID-19 pandemic, she was healthy and safe and so was the rest of her family, but her dreams had very quickly been crushed by the economic fallout. Trapped on the quaint island of Jersey with nothing, but free time to wallow in her mistakes, Brooke’s mental health was taking a hit, but when she collides with a handsome stranger she starts to realize that the future might not be so bleak and there might still be a light at the end of the tunnel.

Pairing: Henry Cavill x OFC

______________

June. 14. 2020

Henry: Are you busy this evening?

Me: I'm never busy these days

Henry: That's not true. Sometimes you have plans with your family

Me: Fair point, but only because I never have a better offer 😉

Henry: Well, would you be interested in joining me for dinner tonight?

Me: Absolutely 😊

Henry: Great, I'll pick you up at six!

A quick glance at the clock told me that it was almost four now so I dragged myself off the couch and headed to the bathroom to shower and get myself date ready.

****

I walked into the kitchen at about quarter to six where Molly was doing some homework and Cassie was starting on dinner.

"Where are mum and dad?"

Cassie glanced up from the pot she was stirring.

"Just at the shop, picking up a few things we're low on," She informed me. "You look nice, any plans?"

The children took no time at all to rat us out at the party. It took less than fifteen minutes for one of them to spill the beans and force us into an awkward explanation in front of the group. The general consensus was that everyone was pleased for us though and it was nice to not have to hide anything.

"I'm going for dinner with Henry," I admitted. "He's picking me up in a few minutes."

"Ooh, very nice," She grinned. "Where are you going?"

"I don't know. Hopefully not a restaurant, I don't really feel comfortable with that yet even though I'm sure they're all taking precautions. I'll probably suggest we get takeaway and eat in the car or something."

"In the car?" Cassie laughed. "Surely on an island like this you could find somewhere more romantic than his car!"

"That's true," I smiled. "Anyway, I don't know what he has planned so we'll have to wait and see."

"Well, I'm very happy for you, Brooke."

I wrinkled my nose despite the smile on my face.

"Not necessarily much to be happy for at the moment, we're just....friends that kiss."

"Oh please," She rolled her eyes. "You're a couple. He's your boyfriend. You two just don't want to admit it."

I was about to argue, but my phone buzzed in my hand and a quick glance told me that it was Henry and he was outside.

"I have to go," I told her. "But he's not my boyfriend so don't go spreading any rumours."

"Oops, I already called TMZ."

I stuck out my tongue as she laughed at her own joke before grabbing my purse and heading for the door.

As soon as I got outside, my jaw dropped. The car sitting in our driveway probably cost more than my parent's house or at least came pretty close. He had the window rolled down and resting his elbow on the frame, leaning out with his sunglasses on in a way that was effortlessly sexy.

"Is this your car?!" I asked, still shocked by the sight.

"No, I stole it," He smirked. "Of course it's mine."

"Oh hush," I rolled my eyes. "It could belong to your dad or something."

"To be honest, it may as well. I can't take it off Jersey so he drives it more than I do."

A sly grin onto my face.

"Can I drive it?"

Henry chuckled, but shook his head.

"Nice try, but no."

"Why not?"

"Do you even have a license?"

I scoffed indignantly.

"Of course I do," I informed him. "I'm a great driver."

"I'm sure you are," He smirked. "But this isn't just any car."

I rolled my eyes, but relented.

"Alright, fine. If I'm not special enough to drive your car then I understand."

I pouted dramatically, but again, Henry just chuckled.

"Get in," He nodded his head to the passenger side. "And maybe I'll let you drive on the way home."

"Yay!" I squealed, clapping my hands as I hurried around the front of the car and got in. "Does it go really fast?"

Henry shot me a look as he reversed off the driveway.

"Questions like that will turn that maybe into a firm no."

"Fine, fine," I held up my hands in defeat. "I'll be careful. It is a great car though."

"I bought it with my first big pay cheque," He grinned proudly. "I was looking at something a little more reasonable, but my dad thought I should splash out and treat myself."

"He probably knew he'd be the one driving it most of the time," I smiled, earning a chuckle and a nod from Henry.

"You are probably right," He admitted. "So, would you like to know the plan for the evening?"

"Absolutely," I shifted slightly in my seat so I was facing him a bit more. "We're not going to a restaurant, are we? I don't want to ruin your plans, but I don't feel super comfortable with that yet."

"No, no restaurant," Henry assured me. "We're having a picnic."

"A picnic?" I smiled. "That's so romantic."

Henry glanced over quickly to shoot me a wink before turning his eyes back to the road.

"I do my best."

****

He drove us through the small little city down towards a beach, but not the same as the one we were at before. Most of the beach dwellers had gone home for the day as it was now getting into the evening so even though it was still warm and sunny, the beach wasn't at all crowded. Henry grabbed an authentic picnic basket and blanket from the boot of the car and slipped his hand in mine before leading us towards the sand. Once we'd found a nice little spot, he laid out the blanket and gestured for me to sit down.

"This is so cute," I gushed. "What a great idea!"

"I thought you might like it," He smiled, settling down next to me on the blanket. "It's safer than going out to eat and gives us more privacy than using either of our gardens."

"Oh god," I rolled my eyes. "My family would be spying out the window the entire time. Cassie and my mum have barely stopped talking about us since your family left the other day."

Henry laughed, shaking his head.

"My family have been a bit more subtle," He informed me. "But I did get a call from Charlie this morning asking about you so the news has obviously made it's way around already."

"And what did you tell him?"

I wasn't going to press the issue and make him tell me the details of a private conversation, but curiosity got the best of me and I couldn't help but ask.

"Oh, you know," Henry shrugged. "I told him that you're a baker and you make me delicious things to eat so I'm letting you hang around for now. And, of course, that you're hot so that's a bonus too."

I pulled a face and swatted his leg.

"You're so rude!"

"I'm kidding," He chuckled despite the pout that slid onto my face. "I told him that you're talented, smart, funny and gorgeous and that you've been a wonderful ray of sunshine to brighten my little lockdown life."

“Wow," I smiled, my cheeks burning from the unexpected compliments. "That's actually really sweet."

I could have sworn Henry's own cheeks looked a shade redder, but he simply shrugged.

"It's all true."

"Well, I don't want to get too cheesy, but I feel the same," I admitted. "I was feeling pretty hopeless when I first got here, but you've made my time here much more enjoyable than I anticipated it would be."

"I'm glad I could help," He smiled as I leaned against his shoulder.

He wrapped his arm around me and pulled me close, using his hand to gently tilt my face towards his before pressing his lips against mine. It was a soft, sweet kiss and despite the fact that it still seemed very surreal that our relationship reached this point, my heart was ready to burst out of my chest.  He was so tender for such a big, tough looking man and I appreciated the care and gentleness he showed in every romantic moment we'd shared so far.

I reluctantly pulled away as Henry's stomach growled rather loudly.

"Hungry, are you?" I giggled. "What did you make for dinner?"

"I didn't make it," He admitted, looking a little sheepish. "I picked it up from a local restaurant. I got a couple of sandwiches, crisps and fruit salad for dessert. They had cakes, but I thought it might ruin the mood if they're not up to your standard."

I leaned back, laughing as he unpacked the meal.

"It wouldn't have ruined the mood, I'm not a snob," I assured him. "It's nice to eat other people's baking sometimes, getting to reap the benefits without doing all the work."

"I'll remember that for next time," He smiled. "But I didn't want to chance it on our first date."

An ear to ear grin slid onto my face at that comment.

"Is that what this is? Our first date?"

"Was that not clear?" Henry smirked at me and I shrugged as he handed me a can. "How about a toast to honour the occasion?"

I glanced down at the can and saw it was wine as he pulled out a beer for himself.

"To us," I smiled, cracking open the can. "To light growing in dark places."

"Very poetic," Henry teased, gently knocking his can against mine. "To us."

I sipped my drink before investigating the can a bit closer.

"Were they sold out of champagne?"

Henry chuckled as he passed me one of the sandwiches and a napkin.

"No, but I didn't want to get too carried away since I'll have to drive us home," He informed me. "Why? Do most of your first dates start with champagne?"

"Oh yes, definitely. In fact, I normally insist on it," I laughed, my words filled with sarcasm. Henry playfully rolled his eyes as I took a bite of my sandwich, swallowing before I elaborated. "I'm just kidding. Honestly, I haven't really dated in a long time."

Henry raised an eyebrow, looking unconvinced.

"No? I'm surprised you're not fighting men off left and right."

"Definitely not," I smiled, shaking my head. "But I don't really put myself out there to give them the chance. My last relationship ended a few years ago and I dated a little after that, but I find the whole process quite tedious."

"Well, I hope you haven't found it tedious with me!"

"No, no, of course not," I rushed to assure him. "But it was different with us. We met and just enjoyed spending time together until it became more. After my ex and I broke up a couple of years ago, I realized that these days it's mostly dating apps and going out with someone you've only seen a picture of and I just can't be bothered with that. It seems so awkward."

"Fair enough," Henry nodded. "Why did you and your ex break up? If you don't mind me asking."

"No, not at all," I smiled. "He's gay. He was raised in a super religious family so it took him a long time to come to terms with it so we were together for almost two years before he finally decided he couldn't hide it anymore."

"That must have been a shock.."

"It was," I admitted. "It was a pretty hard time, but we're still good friends now and I'm glad he's comfortable being who he really is. I was upset at the time, but after I calmed down I realized how hard it was for him. Besides, it wasn't like he didn't love me, he just loved me in a different way."

"That's very understanding of you," Henry observed. "A lot of people would probably be more resentful."

"Probably," I shrugged. "But he can't change who he is so there's no point in holding a grudge. What about you? Any vengeful exes I should be aware of?"

"No, none of them are vengeful," He laughed. "Most of my break-ups were pretty amicable. I actually worked with my most recent ex, Lucy, on the Witcher. She's a stunt woman so our paths have crossed a few times and there's no bad blood there."

"That's good," I smiled. "I think it's nice when people still get along after a split. Obviously you cared for that person at one point so I always think it's such a shame when relationships deteriorate to the point where you can't even stand to be in the same room as the other person."

"I agree," Henry nodded. "Fortunately, most people I've dated have shared that outlook. I wouldn't say that I'm friends with any of them, but I don't think many would cross the street to avoid me."

"Good," I sipped my wine. "I find men who leave a trail of broken hearts behind them very off putting. I'm too old to chase around after a player."

"A player?" Henry chuckled. "That sounds like something I no longer have the energy to be so we're on the same page there."

I was already fairly certain that was true. I hadn't seen much evidence of Henry playing games or stringing me along as was so common in dating these days from both men and woman, but it was always good to have a bit of reassurance. While some people shied away from discussing their previous relationships, I'd always found being open and honest about it prevented any conflict or surprises later on.

****

We continued talking chatting as we ate our dinner and had just settled on Henry's life growing up on the island as we finished.

"So," I started, turning to face him. "If we were here and none of this virus stuff was happening, what would be your favourite places that you would have to show me?"

"Hmm, that's a good question," Henry pondered. "I definitely would have taken you to that look out point we went to, but I also would have made sure we visited Durrell Zoo."

"Oh, is that the one you do charity work for?"

Henry smirked, shaking his head.

"You need to stop googling me."

"Hey!" I protested. "You told me that yourself!"

"Did I?" He didn't seem convinced, but it was the truth. "Well, yes, it is. They're a great organization, but I also have fond memories of going there when I was a boy so it's nice to share it with other people."

"That's really sweet," I smiled. "Is it your favourite place on the island?"

"It's definitely one of them," He nodded. "But I'd also take you there if it was open."

He pointed into the distance and I followed his finger with my gaze.

"Is that a castle?" I asked, shielding my eyes from the sun to get a better look.

"It is," He smiled. "Gorey Castle or lé Vièr Châté. It was built in 1212 and was used for the defence of the island. It's really interesting, there's lots of little towers and secret rooms. And just thinking that it's been there for over eight hundred years makes it quite an experience."

"That's really cool," I agreed. "So many people must have wandered through there over the years, even before it was just used as a historical monument."

"Exactly," Henry nodded. "It's fascinating! The stories those walls could tell if they could speak would be enthralling."

Henry's eyes shined with intrigue at the thought and I couldn't help, but smile at the sight.

"You like history, don't you?"

"I do," He admitted, looking somewhat sheepish. "I find it really interesting just thinking about everything that's happened and how it's created and shaped the world we know today."

"It is interesting," I agreed. "You must have loved working on the Tudors."

"I did!" Henry smiled. "I would love to do more period pieces if the opportunity arose. There's plenty of people whose stories deserve to be told."

"It's really cool that you're so passionate about it," I mused. "Not to be rude, but I don't think many people expect someone who looks like you to be interested in things that are sometimes considered to be nerdy or uncool. It's refreshing."

"People tell me that a lot," He chuckled. "But I am who I am. I love video games, fantasy novels and history. Just because I also enjoy staying in shape and exercising and because I have to look a certain way for some roles, that doesn't change."

"And it shouldn't," I insisted. "I think that people just always need to fit everyone into one specific box, but that isn't realistic. Nerds can be hot too."

Henry tossed his head back laughing before nodding in agreement.

"Yes, yes they can," He grinned, filling me with a kind of pride at being the one to make him look so happy. "Speaking of staying in shape, was yoga something that came naturally to you or have you just become more flexible over time?"

I tilted my head questioningly, wondering where his query came from until he pointed at my legs. At some point in our conversation I'd crossed my legs and then pulled my feet up on top of my knees. The stretch felt nice and I hadn't even thought that to some people it was an unusual way to sit.

"Oh, I definitely became more flexible over time," I informed him. "I was so stiff when I first started, I couldn't even touch my toes. It's amazing how fast your body adjusts though. Now the stretches that used to be quite a strain are just naturally comfortable."

"I really should try it," Henry sighed. "I may be strong, but I am not flexible."

My face lit up as I got an idea.

"Do you want to try it? I'm not a teacher or anything, but I could show you a few moves!"

Henry hesitated at first, but then nodded.

"Alright, yeah," He agreed. "Let's give it a go."

"Great!" I smiled, pushing myself up to my feet. "Why don't you watch me the first time and then do it with me after?"

"Sure," Henry agreed, looking amused by my enthusiasm.

"Okay, I'll keep it super simple."

I moved off the blanket and onto the sand, standing so he got a sideways view. I reached my arms up above my head, enjoying the stretch before slowly bringing my hands down to the sand in front of me letting my weight fall forward to stretch my back. After pausing there for a moment, I stretched back up once more before leaning back down and planting my hands in the sand. I stepped my feet back until I was in downward facing dog.

"Following along so far?"

I turned my head to the side as I rocked my feet back and forth a bit to see Henry's reaction.

"I am," He nodded with a smirk. "But I think I'd appreciate a different angle..."

I stuck my tongue out despite my cheeks reddening at his flirty observation and turned my attention back to what I was demonstrating.

I lifted my left leg up behind me before bringing it under my body and planting my foot between my hands. Once I had my balance, I raised up and lifted my hands above my head, holding for a moment before lowering down and repeating it on the other side. After that, I lowered from downward dog into plank and hopped my feet forward before standing.

"Ta-da!"

"Well done," Henry clapped, standing up. "You'll have to direct me as we go, I don't think I can remember it all."

"That's fine," I smiled as he came to stand next to me. "So start by stretching your arms up..."

I led him through the first part, only glancing over at him once we were in downward dog. I giggled at the sight.

"Your hamstrings are tight," I observed. "Ideally, your heels should be flat on the ground."

Henry looked down between his arms towards his feet.

"They're not that far off," He protested. "But what's next?"

I guided him through the rest of it which he, unsurprisingly, handled with ease. He smiled proudly as we landed back on our feet and my heart melted at the sight.

"Good job!" I praised. "Now, do you want to see my favourite part of a yoga practice?"

He eyed me suspiciously.

"Is it some super tricky move that I'll never be able to do?"

"No," I giggled. "It's probably the easiest."

I moved back to the blanket, lowered myself to the ground and laid flat on my back with my hands by my side. Henry watched for a moment.

"Is that it?"

"It is," I confirmed with a smile. "It's called Shavasana."

My eyes were closed, but I felt Henry lay down next to me and he slid his hand into mine as he did. I bit back a smile, relaxing as we stayed like that for at least a few minutes.

"It's very calming," Henry commented. "But I can think of a position that I would find more enjoyable..."

"You can?"

As soon as the question came out of my mouth, his hand slipped out of mine and I felt his body move until it was hovering over me. I let my eyes drift open then to see his smiling face just inches above my own. I sighed happily as I moved my hands from the blanket to wrap my arms around his broad shoulders.

"This is a better position..."

Henry simply smirked before lowering his head until our lips collided. My mind went blank in the most blissful way, it was like the world around us disappeared. The weight of his strong body above me was a new sensation and one that added to the thickening atmosphere around us. The way his back muscles tensed as my hands roamed over them, tracing them through his shirt as they fought to keep him steady above me and the way he moaned just slightly as I lightly nipped at his bottom lip was almost too much for me to handle. I let my hands weave into his hair as our tongues clashed, but as I lifted my leg, hooking it around his hip in a desperate attempt to get us even closer together, he pulled away, resting his forehead against mine.

"I'm sorry," He sighed, breathing heavily. "We have to stop."

I let my foot fall back against the blanket, my cheeks reddening as I realized how carried away I'd gotten and how it would look to anyone else on the beach.

"Sorry," I mumbled shyly. "I got a bit lost in the moment."

Henry chuckled and bent his head to peck my lips again before rolling over and sitting next to me.

"You don't need to be sorry," He assured me. "I thoroughly enjoyed every second, perhaps a bit too much, but if we kept going I'm not sure I'd have the willpower to stop and getting caught having sex on the beach would not be a good look for Superman..."

I couldn't help, but laugh at that as I sat up next to him.

"No, I imagine it wouldn't be," I agreed. "It wouldn't be a great look for me either really even though I'm sure no one would blame me for being powerless to resist you."

"I think it would be the other way around," He argued. "You're the irresistible one here."

"Hardly," I playfully rolled my eyes. "I've read the comments on your Instagram, they're much more juicy than the ones on mine."

"That's a good thing," Henry smiled. "Or I'd have to make some big romantic post about you to stake my claim."

"You have a claim, do you?" I raised an eyebrow. "I know you like history, but you don't need to go all caveman on me."

"Is that caveman behaviour? It's probably more something a knight would do."

"No, if you were a knight you would joust for me," I teased. "And that is something I wouldn't mind seeing."

"Well, I do have some skill on horseback," Henry admitted. "But jousting is a bit dangerous for my taste."

"Do you actually?" I asked, suddenly intrigued. "Know how to ride a horse, I mean."

"Of course!" Henry looked at me like I was crazy. "I rode one in the Witcher, did I not?"

"Sure," I shrugged. "But not for very long. I assumed they stuck you on a really tame one for just long enough to get the shot."

He laughed at that suggestion, but shook his head.

"No, I spent a lot of time bonding with that horse and I can ride very well," He insisted. "I can take you sometime if you're interested? I know the owner of one of the stables on the island quite well."

Excitement buzzed in my stomach at the thought. I'd always loved horses, but riding lessons were expensive and not in our budget when I was a child.

"That would be great!" I grinned. "I'd love to!"

"Perfect," Henry nodded. "I'll call them and see what I can sort out, but for now, I should get you home before you freeze."

I was hoping Henry hadn't notice the shivers that had been running through me since the loss of his body heat, but as the sun was starting to set my thin long sleeved shirt and shorts weren't cutting it. I reluctantly nodded and he rose to his feet before holding out his hand for me. Once the blanket was folded, he took my hand and we started off towards the car when I remembered what he'd said at the start of our date.

"Do I get to drive us home?!"

Henry looked nervous as his eyes flicked over to me.

"Do you promise to drive slowly and not scrape anything?"

"Of course," I smiled. "I promise to drive more carefully than ever before."

He gave it another moment of thought before sighing and handing me the keys. I cheered and practically dragged him back to the car as I ran towards it eagerly, thinking that this was probably the best date that I had ever been on.

-

Tag List: @heartfelt-pen​ @stephartrave @herefortherealdeal @imaginecrushes​

Let me know if you’d like to be added!

[prettyinlimegreenboots]

Hey there! Could you maybe do toasted marshmallows, bonfire, and see your breath in the air as as prompt for whoever? If not that's totally fine. Your stuff is all really good and brightens my day all the time! I'm so excited that you have that masterlist now! Have a great night!

Drinking is mentioned.

The sun peeked through the trees as a light breeze swept through the yard. Race gazed up at the old house he and Spot had purchased a couple of years ago. They had spent the morning raking leaves, only for their dog, Spud, to jump in them and make a mess. And now it was time to sit, relax, and enjoy the gorgeous day.

October was here and it was the perfect day for a bonfire in the yard. With mugs of hot apple cider, Race sat in a lounge chair while Spot got to work building the fire. “You sure you know what you’re doing?”

“I mean it’s not hard to catch some leaves on fire before putting some wood on top.” Spot grinned. “Besides, unlike you, I did a few years of Scouts and the number one rule of Scouts is Be Prepared!”

Race chuckled. “Just get the fire started, Spottie. I need my heater over here to keep me warm. And your apple cider is getting cold.”

They both waited several seconds with baited breath before the leaves caught fire along with several sticks that were thrown in the fire pit. “Ha, in your face Racetrack. Doubting my skills.”

“Alright, my Mr mighty fire builder, come over here and keep me warm.” Race opened his arms for Spot to crawl into his lap as he nestled his head into Spot’s warm chest. “We should roast marshmallows.”

Spot chuckled. “That sounds like a plan. Let the fire die down some and we can do that. Is there anything else we need to do today?”

“Nope. Chili is simmering on the stove, fire built, Spud’s down for the count. Kat and Jack said they might stop by later along with Blink, Mush, Albert and Finch.” Race sighed in contentment.

Taking a sip of his apple cider, Spot nodded. “Sounds like a solid Saturday afternoon.”

They both watch Spud wiggle next to them in the grass with a laugh before hearing a car door slam. Spud was on his feet barking heading to the front of the house before either of them could move.

They waited for whoever had arrived to make their appearance. In the meantime, Spot leaned down and kissed Race. “Happy autumn, snookums.”

“It’s been a pretty spectacular day, huh?” Race grinned, seeing his brother and Kat walk around the corner of the house with Spud at their heels.

“Hey you two.” Jack yelled, as Spud took something from Kat’s hand and went to lay down. “Yard looks good.”

Spot gave him a look. “Thanks but you’re rewarding the dog that messed it up this morning.”

“In what way?” Kat gave him a look, sitting in one of the chairs around the fire pit.

Race watched Spud chew on the rawhide that the two had brought him before looking at the happy couple. “We were raking leaves and mister decided to run through them and make a mess. It’s a good thing we love him.”

“Awww he probably didn’t mean to.” Kat reached over and gave him belly rubs.

Spot and Race both chuckled, shaking their heads at how spoiled their dog is by friends and family. “What have you guys been up to?”

“She made me clean bathrooms today.” Jack cried dramatically, giving his wife a look. “Other than that we went to the farmer’s market before coming here.”

Race patted Jack’s shoulder sympathetically. “I feel your pain, Jackie. Spottie makes me clean the bathrooms too.”

“Would you rather wash floors or dust?” Kat gave him a look, raising an eyebrow. “You complain when I make you wash dishes or vacuum. You’re pitching in around the house, somehow - laundry, vacuum, dusting, or bathrooms. Pick your poison.”

Spot gave Race a look. “Don’t give me that look - you’re in the same boat as your brother. Pick your poison.”

Kat held her arm up for a high five as Spot obliged. Jack and Race looked at their spouses. “I believe we’ve been set up.”

“Way to go Captain Obvious.” Spot grinned at his beloved before looking at Jack and Kat. “Pleasure doing business with you Kat!”

They heard more car doors close as Jack looked at the two. “Expecting more people?”

“As our house usually is, it was an open invite. We texted you two but I may have let it slip to Albert and Blink as well.” Race grinned, watching the two walk around the corner of the house with their better halves. “Hey guys! We have chili simmering on the stove and s’more stuff for later.”

Greetings and hugs were exchanged before everyone got cozy around the fire, which Spot had put another two logs on. Race tilted his head back and blew air from his mouth grinning. “Hey I can see my breath.”

“How old are you again?” Albert asked, giving his best friend a look.

Race stuck out his tongue and laughed. “Today, I’m 6 but on a normal day, 25.”

The group laughed, while Spot nestled deeper into Race’s lap. A discussion about football started up. The local university was playing away that day so Albert and Blink had their phones out with the updates coming through.

Race stood up from the chair, gently depositing Spot in the chair before backing Kat to come with him into the house. He went to the stove and stirred the chili and gave her a look. “Will you gather the stuff for s‘mores?”

They were silent as they attended both of their tasks - him gathering stuff for chili while she found all the s‘ more stuff. “Race, how’s it going?”

“Good. We have a home visit next week and that’s the last step before we’re officially adoptive parents. Once that’s done, we can start adopting or foster.” Race grinned, as she stopped and hugged him.

“That’s so exciting. You two have been waiting for this for the last two years.” She grinned. “Are you going to foster or go right into adoption?”

Race grabbed a few bowls from the cupboard before shrugging. “I think we’re leaning toward adoption but there’s quite a waitlist for adoption so we may foster first. We have an option where we could foster and adopt if it’s a right fit.”

“I’m excited for you two. Jack and I are here if you need anything.” Kat put everything on a tray before putting it on the kitchen table.

“Thanks. We really appreciate it. Your character reference letter you did for us was more than we could’ve asked for.” Race hugged her again

She grinned, swallowing the wave of emotion that surged through her. “You’re welcome. Jack and I’ll do anything for you and Spot.”

Race nodded, grabbing the sour cream and shredded cheese from the fridge before looking at the counter. “Can you let those yahoo’s know chili is ready?”

She walked out to the wrap around porch, yelling at the ones in the yard. He heard everyone before he could see them. They gathered around, grabbing bowls and ladling them up with chili and all the fixings. Spot pulled Race close, kissing him before grinning. “This looks good. Thanks for making it.”

Shouts of gratitude and thanks were yelled as everyone headed outside. Silence fell over the group as everyone dug. “That’s the best chili I’ve had.”

“Only because you didn’t have to make it.” Race quipped, giving Mush a look. “Besides, from what I’ve heard, you’re banned from the kitchen.”

Albert and Jack both chuckled. “Not sure why you’re laughing, boys. Heard you’re not allowed in either without supervision.”

“It was a teeny tiny fire.” Jack said before putting another spoonful in his mouth.

Spot raised an eyebrow. “Then why was the fire department called?”

“They were called for precaution. Just to make sure everything was alright.” Jack argued, giving the group a look. “I’m usually on grilling duty.”

“That way the house won’t explode.” Kat broke in as the entire group busted into laughter. “But I still love you, sweetie.”

Wiping tears from his eyes, Race grinned at Spot. “I guess I’m the lucky one that both of us can hold our own in the kitchen. And he bakes too.”

Blowing on his nails before buffing them on his shirt, Spot grinned. “Did you grab the cookies for tonight?”

“No, Kat grabbed all of the s’more stuff but I’ll grab them when I bring that stuff out.” Race promised, sighing in contentment.

Spot added a couple of pieces of wood to the fire. A conversation about work and future plans was started as Race and Spot started picking bowls and heading back into the house. “Will you grab a couple of blankets while I grab the s’more stuff?”

With a nod, Spot grabbed the clear bucket of bonfire blankets, meeting Race in the kitchen with a kiss. “Love you.”

“Love you too Spottie.”

Heading back out, Race set the tray of s’more stuff on the little table before collapsing in a chair with a sigh. “There’s marshmallows, graham crackers, cookies, and various chocolate to make your own s’mores. The marshmallow sticks are in the bucket.”

“Thanks Race, Spot for hosting us.” Albert raised his beer bottle in thanks.

“Anytime.” Spot said grinning. “Actually, we might need your help soon.”

Albert raised an eyebrow with a grin. “Name it.”

“Race and I are thinking of putting in a garden in the back part of the property next spring. Something small to start but we might need your Rototiller to break up some of the grass and dirt.” Spot explained.

Albert nodded. “Yeah absolutely. Do you know what you want to plant?”

Albert and Finch had put in a garden over the summer and filled it with carrots, radishes, peppers, tomatoes, watermelon, and were currently growing pumpkins now. There had been many times that Albert and Finch had made dinner from the contents of their garden.

“We figured we’d start small, maybe carrots, lettuce, or radishes and go from there.” Race shrugged. “We want to be able to manage it and not have it take up every free second we have.”

Finch nodded. “Let us know when you want the rototiller and it’s yours.”

Race moved from the chair to grab a stick and a marshmallow before sitting closer to the fire. His tongue poked out of his mouth in concentration, as he slowly toasted his marshmallow for the perfect hue. “Just stick it in and burn it, Racer.”

“Just because you like tasting carbon when you eat your marshmallows, doesn’t mean the rest of us do.” Race gave Jack a look. “Besides, this is how I like my s'mores .”

Spot had two graham crackers and a piece of chocolate waiting for him as he pulled his marshmallow from the fire. “Look at that beauty! Stunning work of art.”

He crafted his s’more before taking a bite and moaning in delight. “Pure Heaven, right here.”

The rest of the group made their s’mores, Jack critiquing their marshmallow toasting strategies. “If you think you can do it any better, how about you roast one youself, Jackie.”

“Maybe I will.” Jack stood up, grabbing a stick and a marshmallow before sticking it in the fire for a few seconds, waiting for it to catch fire before pulling it out and extinguishing the side by blowing on it. “Ta da!”

Spot and Race both cracked up laughing at the black, burnt marshmallow. “Any monkey could do that. It takes skill and determination to make a marshmallow as perfect as mine.”

Jack gave him a look. “Well we can’t all be as tedious as you are.”

“Thank goodness for that. There’s room for only one Racer in the world.” Albert grinned, nudging his best friend.

Race laughed, nodding. “Thanks Al.”

“We were all thinking it, I just said it.” Albert smirked.

The rest of the night was spent trading stories around the fire while toasting marshmallows, enjoying each other’s company. Laughter lit up the night like the flames. It was a great night and one that Race would look back on with nothing but fondness.

Thanks @deliciouspeachpirate for the prompt. Hope you enjoy it!!!

[x--daughters-of-darkness--x]

Employed To Serve are putting British metal back on top

For the past decade, Justine Jones and Sammy Urwin of Employed To Serve have helped elevate British rock and metal both on and off the stage, from Album Of The Year releases to their championing of new bands. Now, with fourth full-length Conquering on the horizon, the pay-off is being felt across the entire scene…

Some years ago now, at the end of her last job in retail, Justine Jones made a decision. Providing she could eat and had a roof over her head, she wasn’t, she told herself, going to spend her life doing anything that was “un-fun”. Instead, Justine decided, she’d navigate the world by working hard on the things she loved and that she truly believed in.

“I’ve never been content to be a cog,” she says. ​“I’ve always wanted to be like a very heavily involved person. I like having a say, I guess. I’ve never liked having a manager, in terms of work. I have got that childish, rebellious thing, like, ​‘Don’t tell me what to do.’”

Employed To Serve are not cogs. Nor are Justine and guitarist Sammy Urwin ones to sit around and wait for the lights to go green. With what the singer calls ​“our Hatebreed, perseverance attitude”, a self-starting, hands-dirty, DIY ethos that’s as much about enthusiasm for music and building a scene as it is firing up pits, they have become one of the most exciting British metal bands of the past decade. When Oli Sykes invited them to join the Bring Me The Horizon-curated All Points East festival two summers ago, he noted that they were ​“one of the few heavy bands around who I actually like”.

Kerrang! had got there before him, mind. In 2017, we crowned Employed To Serve’s second album, The Warmth Of A Dying Sun, our Album Of The Year. Its follow-up, 2019’s Eternal Forward Motion, was awarded a full 5K rating and a spot on our front cover, their second. When they gave us the nod a while ago that they were about to drop the first single from their brilliant fourth album, Conquering, coming this September, we didn’t even need to think about giving them a third.

Like Oli’s band, there’s an energy to Employed To Serve, an orbit around them that feels like it’s pulling in other bands, linking seemingly unlinked outfits together through sheer enthusiasm. Beyond the band, offstage, Justine and Sammy run Church Road Records from their home in the Surrey commuter town of Woking (a place notably annihilated by Martians in H.G. Wells’ War Of The Worlds). Through this, they can sign and put out music by bands that they like: the only real signing policy amounting to ​“bands that excite me”, says Justine. There’s as much gratefulness towards the artists they release – Svalbard, Palm Reader, Cruelty, to name but three �� for trusting them to look after their records, as there is to anyone who gives their own band the time of day.

“As cheesy as it sounds, we’re lifers,” says Justine. ​“I love music. I love releasing it. I love that I do it for a full time job. I love playing live. First and foremost, we are music fans. Obviously, we love being in a band and stuff. But we just live and breathe music.”

As with so many things for so many people, the depth of this dedication was thrown into sharp focus as COVID took hold last year. At the end of 2019, Employed To Serve were on a winning streak. Eternal Forward Motion was one of the year’s most acclaimed releases, they band had spent a month on the road with Bury Tomorrow in Europe and the UK, and on New Year’s Eve, Sammy and Justine put a bow on their long-term relationship by tying the knot. In March 2020, just before lockdown ended touring for everyone, the band’s UK headlining run just about snuck in, and saw them sell out London’s Camden Underworld, a show that ended in chaos with the audience onstage triumphantly carrying Sammy on their shoulders.

When things ground to a halt, the gap left was palpable. Once source of reflection came in taking stock in what the band had achieved, while also having to find a replacement for guitarist Richard Jacobs. It’s an exercise the pair are admittedly used to, to the point where Justine says, ​“We probably look like dictators, like it’s the Sammy and Justine show.”

To wit, keen observers will note that they are the only members of Employed To Serve to be on both this Kerrang! cover and the last one. There’s no bad blood anywhere – Richard left to move to Japan with his wife, drummer Robbie Back has become a dad, bassist Marcus Gooda went on to focus on other things – it was simply the wage of getting older in a band. When life’s forks come up, you have to make a choice. For Sammy and Justine, the choice just happens to be to stay the course. Three new members have been drafted into the band – guitarist David Porter, bassist Nathan Pryor and drummer Casey McHale – but it still provided a moment of reflection for what was actually important.

Another, more serious bit of stock-taking came last September, when Justine resigned from her job as a label manager at Holy Roar records, after serious assault allegations were made against the label’s owner. Soon after, that label folded entirely.

But in both cases, where events could have sown doubt or caused serious damage, things instead bloomed. And so, Sammy and Justine turned Church Road – a small concern of Sammy’s for years already – into a full-time occupation and livelihood, taking on Holy Roar releases already on the slate and pressed, and releasing them herself. In the case of their first release, Svalbard’s When I Die, Will I Get Better?, there was barely a month to move everything over, and yet it still hit the shelves on the day it was always intended to. Because, looking back, it’s almost like there was no other consideration than to carry on.

“When everything happened, I thought, ​‘Maybe I could go to a bigger label or something.’ But that’s not where my heart is,” says Justine. ​“My heart is in finding bands in tiny little venues and then helping them grow into their second hours and stuff. And it’s just more fun. Obviously, it’s very scary [running your own label], and I’ve spent a lot of this past year very stressed. But I don’t have to answer to anyone – I just do the best I can for the bands because I love them. My favourite thing is sitting on Bandcamp with a coffee or a beer, and going through each genre finding the best bands of that day, or going through Apple Music or Spotify and finding new bands. It has been like that since I was a kid. So doing a record label just makes sense.

“Obviously I wish it was under better circumstances, but COVID has been almost like a blessing for this band, because it’s helped us regroup,” she continues. ​“It made us take stock of all the cool shit we’ve been lucky enough to do. Because sometimes when you get caught in the rat race of everything, you’re never really living in the moment. And then COVID happens, and you think, ​‘What do I miss?’ Friends, family, playing shows. And I’m like, ​‘Cool, I’m doing the right thing. Let’s get back to it.’”

For Justine, this meant becoming the boss. For Sammy, already a music obsessive with an apparent addiction to both old-school death metal and playing guitar in as many bands as possible as a member of Renounced and Motormouth (as well as playing in Glorious with Justine), it was an opportunity to dedicate his life to his passion even further. A gardener by trade, he’d lately found himself wondering what was beyond it.

“I was doing gardening work on and off for the last 10 or so years. I enjoyed the work, but sometimes I would kind of find myself being a little bit like, ​‘What’s the five-year plan?’” he says. ​“I’ll always do the band. But we got a few members going off and doing other stuff. I knew I had to find something else to do, because I wanted to do something in music that also fit around being in the band. I just knew I wanted to be with like-minded people talking about music all day.”

Sammy and Justine talk about music a lot. Get Sammy started on metal, and his enthusiasm quickly runs away with him. For Justine, their impending gig at Download Pilot a couple of days after our interview is as much about watching everyone else as it is their own show. Though one of the heaviest bands on the line-up, as a showcase of the breadth of rising talent the British rock scene has, appearing on the same ticket as Enter Shikari, Trash Boat, Creeper, Boston Manor, Neck Deep, Loathe and Conjurer is a large-scale version of what they’ve been driving at for years.

“It’s so funny, because it kind of sounds weird, but within the British scene, it makes total sense,” says Justine. ​“It’s a very rich scene at a minute, and it’s for all spectrums. You have bands like Orchards and Gender Roles on the Big Scary Monsters label, but equally, there’s loads of heavier bands, too. Everyone knows how hard it can be being a British band, because it’s hard to get over to America. And now, unfortunately, it’s gonna be hard to get to Europe [after Brexit]. So everyone’s got this thing like, ​‘We’re this little island here and we need to stick together and support each other.’ It’s a nice collective, and a moment in time to be a part of.”

“Even though we’ve written a more metal record [with Conquering] for us, that’s definitely not a statement of us closing the door,” says Sammy. ​“Obviously we’d love to tour with Gojira or Lamb Of God or something like that. But if Creeper came to us and said, ​‘Do you want to tour with us?’ we’d say yes.”

It was on such a line-up that Justine first appeared on the cover of Kerrang!, alongside Becky Blomfield of much-missed alt.punks Milk Teeth, with whom ETS were touring at the time. It not only showed two rising talents in the British scene, but also how well such different ends of it slotted together. Which was kind of the point.

“We were like the little metal sandwich in that tour,” says Justine. ​“But we worked well, because it was an example of this sort of British scene that’s going on at the moment.”

“People turned up who would be wearing ETS T‑shirts, and then singing along with Milk Teeth and vice versa,” says Sammy. ​“That’s so cool to see. Obviously there’s still a little bit of gatekeeping going on in the world of metal. But, for me, that was a really good sign of a shift.”

“It makes total sense. I don’t know why it’s not more of a thing, having mixed bills like that,” says Justine. ​“Everyone in our generation grew up listening to Slipknot and blink-182; two polarising bands, but it makes total sense. I listen to both of them religiously. So that actually kind of makes sense in a bill. It’s literally a music fan’s show. I remember Thursday opening for My Chemical Romance at Wembley on The Black Parade tour when I was 14, and Reuben opening for Billy Talent as well. I literally got to get into heavier stuff from those mixed line-ups.”

Put it to either of them that between their music, DIY attitude and simple lust for wanting to marshall a scene without walls, Employed To Serve could be called leaders, or at least the setters of examples for others to follow, and it’s a compliment they’ll take, but also something that they don’t want to take too much credit for.

“I mean, it’s for others to say, isn’t it?” says Justine. ​“We just have mental to-do list of stuff we want to achieve. And if that inspires people, that’s sick. It’s never like we try to be the leaders or anything.

“At the end of the day, I love the idea of kids getting into metal because of us and vice versa.”

As such an entry point, Conquering is a very good one. Ultra heavy and explosive, it leans even further into Sammy’s love of death metal OGs like Morbid Angel and Death, plus classic thrash, with shredding solos everywhere, as well as more vocals from the guitarist. And not even changing three-fifths of the band since their last album has had anything other than a sharpening effect. Fundamentally, Conquering is exciting, full of energy, and powered by a deep-set love for simply doing it.

“The floodgates have been opened, I guess, in terms of wearing our influences for this record on our sleeve,” says Sammy. ​“I like to think we still maintain the ETS that was there before, but it’s obvious that during lockdown and leading up to this record, for me it was about early Machine Head and Testament and Exodus and stuff. I feel like this is our chance to show that side of us a bit more.”

“It’s where I feel at home, as well, because I grew up listening to early Lamb of God and ​’90s-era Roadrunner Records bands,” adds Justine. ​“Straight-up metal, but not straight-up metal in the sense that we’re doing it by numbers. We sound like us, but there are more choruses and solos.”

“Lyrically, it’s similar to Eternal Forward Motion and touching on some pretty bleak stuff, but for the most part we tried to put a positive spin on it,” says Sammy. ​“I wanted put all of that energy into something positive. I didn’t want to say the same things again, because I didn’t want to make it sound like it’s the same record. I’d say it’s an even more positive record than before.”

The day we meet for this interview, long after the tape recorder goes off, conversation about bands and music continues into the small hours. Three days later, at Download, as Sammy chucks himself into the crowd at the end of the band’s set and Justine alternates between roaring her head off and smiling her face off, the delight in all this is self-evident. Employed To Serve are one of the best metal bands in the country – one of the best bands full stop, in fact – but on a broader scale, they also act as a reflection of an emerging wave of bands for whom being in a band is an act of joy, of doing something with your life, of not settling for things that are, as Justine says, ​“un-fun”.

“Stuff in the band does get to you sometimes and you do get grouchy or whatever,” admits Sammy. ​“But we realised that we’re also very fortunate people who have played with people that have become our best friends. It’s about taking stock and being like, ​‘This is fun.’ That’s what the album is about. It���s about not letting things in your life get the better of you. Because sometimes they do, and you find yourself getting all aggy, and you’re only doing yourself a disservice at that point, really.”

“I think Henry Rollins said, ​‘Tenacity over talent,’” says Justine. ​“We work hard, but it’s tenacity. You could be the sickest guitar player but just sit in your bedroom and never play a show. No.”

“I mean, I do set myself up for it, where I’m kind of pulling my hair out,” adds Sammy. ​“I’ve had times where I’ve had three or four band practices a week. And there’s a gig this night, and a gig that night, and I’ve got to do this, that and the other. But you’ve gotta be in it to win it. And when a cool gig comes about, or cool tour comes about, or you’re just really happy with what you recorded, that’s when you know it’s worth it.”

As they say themselves, Justine and Sammy are lifers. As other members leave to start families or move abroad to begin the next chapter of their lives, rather than feeling left behind, it’s almost made them realise even more quite what a special thing they have.

When it brings you as much happiness as doing this clearly does, what else do you need? And anyway, it’s worth it to not simply be a cog.

[probably-writing-x]

Too soon to say it

Harrison Osterfield x Reader

Request by the wonderful @fanficparker

My requests are always open❤️

“Come on, it’s not that simple!” You shake your head, taking another handful of popcorn from the bowl between you and Harrison.

The two of you were in the middle of a video game night and were taking a break from your second round of Mario Kart. And the prospect of you moving away had just become the topic of conversation.

“Why would things have to change? We’re best friends!” He exclaims like a child, typical to fashion.

“I’m going to be in another country, you’ll be busy with work - I’m just saying things are likely to change,” You defend, trying to brush off the conversation topic quickly.

Harrison’s face falls as he pulls away the popcorn bowl before you can take some more, “You seriously think things aren’t going to be the same?”

When you look at his face, it pains you to be leaving him. The two of you had been best friends since your parents first taught you what a friend was. You’d been inseparable - closer than your parents and families ever expected from the two of you. You just fit together. And it grew and grew, from going to the same school, living on the same street, sneaking out to the same parties, and now living in the same London flat.

“Haz, we spend every day together here,” You explain, “I’m just saying it will be different because we won’t be living together, spending every waking moment with each other.”

“I have other friends,” He points out with a boyish pout.

“I’m just saying I won’t be living with you and it won’t be exactly the same, I’m not saying we’re just going to stop speaking to each other.”

He eyes you suspiciously and sets down the bowl once again, “If I win the next race, you have to stay!”

- - - - - -

“Harrison, have you seen my big suitcase?” You push yourself up from the ground as you’d been busy rummaging through your wardrobe to find it.

Today was the day you’d decided to first start packing as, three days from today, you were on your way to Spain for a year of teaching out there. It was something you’d wanted to do from when you were young. When the opportunity arose, not one part of you wanted to say no.

“I thought I’d left it in the bottom of my wardrobe but I-“ You start to explain to your roommate as you walk into the lounge.

There, in the middle of the floor, is the trusty suitcase that you’d been searching for. Though it’s misshapen and open with Harrison’s attempt to climb inside and zip himself in.

“Are you kidding?” You laugh, trying to shift the zip to expose him.

“I told you I could come with you!” He yells back from inside, his voice muffled by his contorted shape.

You’d dread to think how much effort he’d put into this, “And I told you that you could come if you bought your own damn seat on the plane. Get out of here, you div!”

“Okay, okay, okay,” He replies, “Get me out, it’s really hot in here!”

“Haz stop moving! The zip’s stuck!” You can’t help the exclamatory laugh that escapes your lips, “What the fuck have you done?!”

“Oh my god (Y/n) get me out!” The fear is seeping into his tone as he starts to wiggle around in the cramped space.

It takes a lot of yelling and too much stress but, eventually, he’s freed.

“You see what I’d do to keep you?” He comments, pulling his knees to his chest as he still stays seated in the case.

“Come on man, you’ll make me feel bad,” You sigh, “I’m only a few hours away.”

“But here, you’re a few steps away,” He comments, glancing between your retrospective rooms, “I don’t know, it’s going to be weird here without you.”

“It’s only a year, and you can still come and visit, I’ll come back for Christmas,” You remind him, the comments you’d already made a hundred times.

“I know, I know,” He assures you, reaching out his arm, “I’ve just never been without you.”

You blush a little and lean into his embrace, letting his arms wrap around you.

“Ew, God! Harrison you’re sweating!” You exclaim, pulling away from him.

“I told you - I was burning alive in there!”

“Get out of my suitcase then!”

- - - - - -

“How are you going to live without her, man?” Harry shakes his head, “I give it five weeks before this flat has gone to shit.”

“Five weeks? You’re being generous!” His older brother, Tom, scoffs as he hands a beer to his brother.

You and Harrison had organised a going away party at the flat for the night that was two days before you left. Giving you your last day to be just for you and Harrison - to prepare him to live without you at least.

“Let’s just say FaceTime will definitely be useful,” You nudge at Harrison’s side.

He didn’t seem much like himself tonight but you didn’t want to mention anything with all of your company around.

“Are you excited to leave, (Y/n)?” Harry asks, smiling in your direction.

“Nervous, worried, terrified,” You nod, “But definitely excited!”

You notice Harrison looking at you from the corner of your eye, his gaze not faltering. It’s deep and focused, like he’s clinging onto every last word you said.

The conversation flows from there on out but Harrison still manages to keep his eyes set on you with certainty that they wouldn’t lose you - in more ways than one.

- - - - - -

“Fancy sleeping in my bed tonight?” Harrison suggests as you’re both getting ready for bed, the apartment now semi-clean in the aftermath of the party.

“Sure, I’ll grab my duvet,” You smile and he heads out of the bathroom.

It wasn’t irregular for the two of you to share a bed, despite having your own rooms. You’d always grab both duvets and pool them into one bed for what Harrison called ‘optimum comfort’. Those were the nights where you’d sit and chat for hours and tell him a deep secret you were yet to expose. Or he’d confess to you that he’d got an audition coming up that he hadn’t mentioned. Or that he wasn’t ready for what life was throwing him.

“Thanks for tonight, it was lovely having everyone here,” You smile, “And you managed to invite everyone!”

Harrison smirks as he pulls back the covers of the bedspread, “I’m getting better.”

“Were you okay, though?” You bring it up eventually, “You just seemed a little quiet.”

He climbs into the bed and snuggles into his half, “Just feels strange that you’re leaving in like a day.”

You smile a little and climb in beside him, “We’ll be okay, Harrison? I’m not going to move to Spain and act like I’m living a new life.”

“I know, I know,” He shakes his head, “And I’m so happy for you, (Y/n), honestly.”

You smile a little at him and let the conversation fall silent. There was still something he wasn’t telling you.

“I’m so scared, H.”

The statement makes him bolt upright like a sudden danger had sprung upon you, “What do you mean?”

“I’m moving away from everything, what if I hate it? What if I’m a really shit teacher? Or I just don’t fit in with anyone there?” You ponder, “I’ve been waiting for this like it was all going to just be easy. But it’s probably the scariest thing I’ve ever done.”

“Hey,” He starts, “I think it’s impossible for you to be shit at anything - and you’re a people person with literally anyone, you’re practically fluent in Spanish more than English now, and it’s all just going to fall into place. It always does.”

You snuggle into him and wrap your arms around his torso, “It’s just a big move.”

“Of course it is, but don’t you remember telling me this plan when we were like ten years old?”

You chuckle, “We were sat in that fort we’d made in your garden.”

“And you told me that you’d already planned it, though you didn’t really know much more of what you wanted to do.”

“And you told me you wanted to be the next Leo DiCaprio,” You respond, glancing up at him with a smile.

“I’m getting there,” He wiggles his brows, “I promised you I’d thank you when I won an Oscar.”

You laugh, “Your Mum used to get so fed up when we ended up falling asleep out there. It used to get so cold!”

He smiles and holds you a little bit tighter, pulling up the duvets until they’re up to your chins. It feels like you could stay here forever.

“Well, we still have one full day,” He points out, running a hand through your hair.

“What do you fancy doing?” You ask quietly, fatigue taking over now you were wrapped in Harrison’s arms.

He pauses to think of any valid answer but his pause is just long enough to mean that you’re already falling into a slumber in his arms. When Harrison looks down at you, it’s like his whole world is wrapped up in this bed you’d struggled to put together when you first moved in. He lets your even breaths take hold of his thoughts as he circles through the motions of realisation that always occurred when he was this close to you. At what moment did he fall in love with his best friend? At what point did that ‘other half’ manage to grab a hold of his heart? And would he really let her leave without confessing that? It tugs at his heart to think of a day, a week, a month, a year, without her. But it makes things even worse that she’d been leaving with the lie he’d upheld since he first realised that his heart fluttered when she was near. And that didn’t happen with ‘just friends’. It’s not like Harrison when he feels a tear spill onto his cheek and trickle down the length of his face.

“God, you’ll be the death of me,” He mutters into the silent room, swiping at his face to stop any more tears.

- - - - - -

Your last day at home goes all too quickly, you run through everything with Harrison to make sure he was all set up for running the flat on his own. You check your packing once, twice, three times, before settling on the fact that you’d buy anything you’d forgotten once you were out there. You get your passport and your other essentials ready for the early morning. And just like that, the only thing left is leaving.

You find yourself sat out on the small balcony that came with this apartment, overlooking the typical city streets of London. It feels overwhelming to leave a place like this behind. You’d never been apart from home. First, it was your family, then it was Harrison. Wherever you went, there was a piece of home with you. You’d never really had that experience of being separate from it. Maybe you’d meet somebody out there that would become another piece of that home. But the prospect of a love interest was still yet to become of interest to you. You had everything you needed. Plus, Harrison was always hard to explain to any prospective love interests.

“Am I interrupting?” Harrison asks cautiously as he steps through the window and out onto the balcony, “You looked a little lonely.”

“Just thinking,” You give him a warm smile as he comes to stand beside you on the terrace.

He hums in response and let’s the silence engulf all of you once more. His lungs are screaming for him to say a thousand words with the breath they hold, his heart is yearning to stop feeling so tight at the thought of you. His head feels weak at the thought of processing one day without you.

I love you. Not in the way we’ve been saying since we were little. Not the ‘love you’ or the ‘love ya’. It’s I love you. Simple. Is it? I don’t know where it started, what caused it, why I can’t change it. But it’s consuming, heavy, crazy. It’s in every action you do, every word, every gesture, every expression. Living a life without you would be hell. But living a life where you’re always just my friend? That feels like a punishment that no religion could conceive the thought of.

“Haz...” Your voice is what snaps him from his thoughts.

It’s only then that he feels the tears pricking his skin, slipping down his cheeks.

“Shit,” He mutters, “It must just be the cold.”

The beaming sun outside and the T-shirt adorning his skin tells you otherwise.

“You know if you start crying, I always cry,” You chuckle, outstretching your arms and pulling him to your chest.

Harrison doesn’t speak and it scares you that he’s not the one comforting you - was he really not going to be okay without you?

“I’m just thinking about all of the Spanish boys you’re going to fall in love with,” He jokes, “And you’ll forget all about that pale boy from home.”

“Come on, if they love me, they have to love my pale boy,” You chuckle, “You’re my best friend!”

The statement makes him wrap his arms around you a little tighter. Not for the reason you thought - for the fact that you weren’t going to leave him. But for the fact that that’s all he ever would be. The name ‘best friend’ that always held so much weight had now become completely hopeless. It pained him that he could no longer accept that.

- - - - - -

You were on the phone to your parents when Harrison first started trying to write down everything his brain had been aching for him to say. It felt like it would give some sort of relief.

Dear To (Y/n), Squidge, My Love, Div, and all the other names that this twenty something years has given you.

We’ve been over this a thousand times, how you’re leaving me, how I’ll live alone, how Tom will get sick of me in the end. We’ve talked about it for hours because I started thinking that talking about things would make it easier. Make it easier to say goodbye to you.

It’s silly really - you’ll be back eventually. Whether that’s in a year, or two or three. You’ll be back. But I think it’s the fear of me realising that things are getting too late for anything to change. That somebody else could take my place could give you what I want to. you’ll leave and I’ll lose my chance of admitting anything real to you.

The truth is, for the past, well I don’t know how long, I’ve fallen in love with you. It wasn’t like I realised one thing one day and watched it develop. It’s like one morning I woke up and suddenly noticed it all. I noticed every single piece of you that ignites every single piece of me. I noticed who I am around you and how much I adore who you are around me. And, within that one day, it became blaringly obvious that things weren’t the same anymore.

I can tell you which exact day it was. It was not long after we’d moved in here. In June. We had a day at home where you decided to start decorating the lounge. You’d bought all of this new stuff that you’d been eyeing up for months. And it was all spread out on the floor. You were in this pair of grey joggers and a top you’d planned on wearing to the gym - although you never did get that membership. There was no particular thing that drew me to you. It was everything. It was the way you slipped in the kitchen in your socks as you tried to make a fancy lunch. The way you laughed and rolled your eyes when I failed to set up the coffee table. It was all of these parts of you that I’d never noticed enough.

He’s just starting to choke up when you say goodbye to your parents and he quickly folds up the page.

“Hey, we should probably start getting ready to go,” You lean against the doorframe and fold your arms.

Harrison glances up and nods, “Yeah, I’ll just sort myself out and we can go.”

You had it all planned. Sort out your final things, leave a little present on Harrison’s bed for when he got back from the airport, get to the airport with enough time to check in, and then you’d be gone.

- - - - - -

“Okay, is my passport in there?” You ask Harrison as the two of you are now parked in the airport carpark.

He’s in the back of the car rummaging through your carry on bag to check you’ve got everything in the right place.

“Yep,” He responds, “You’ve got your phone, laptop, purse, earphones...”

Harrison trails off as he slips the letter between the fold of your laptop - part of him hoping you’d somehow see it before you got on the plane. The rest of him hoping you’d never open that.

“Alright, then, we’re ready.”

- - - - - -

You’re just about to walk through to security when you and Harrison realise this will be goodbye. You want to take in every feature of his face. You wanted to memorise the way his eyes move when he smiles, the way his head tilts back when he laughs, the way his hair moves when he shakes his head. You wanted to memorise all of the features that made him your best friend, practically your other half.

“Alright, I think this is it,” You begin, looking at him a little hopelessly - knowing there was nothing you could say that would tell him how much you’d miss him, “I’m gonna miss you man.”

He smiles a little but it doesn’t meet his eyes, “Yeah, you could say that.”

“You’re all ready for the bills and stuff, and I’m sure Tom will be staying more often than not,” You assure him, “If there’s any complication with the rent or bills or anything, just let me know, okay?”

“(Y/n), we’ve been through the logistics!” He squeezes your hand, “I’ll be fine.”

You sigh and wrap your arms around him tightly, taking in his scent that always laced his clothes, “Thank you for everything Harrison.”

He pulls away gently and looks at you with complete focus, “Okay, there’s something I need to stay because, if I don’t, I’ll spend every day thinking that I should’ve done.”

You frown a little and take a step back.

He lets out a shaky breath, “God, I don’t know where to start. Okay, here goes nothing.”

“Harrison, you’re scaring me. What’s going on?”

“I love you (Y/n). I love you with every single fibre of my body, every single piece of my heart. And I know that I shouldn’t feel like that. I’m not supposed to. You’re supposed to be the one girl that I wouldn’t fall in love with - the one girl. And I couldn’t do it,” He shrugs as tears start building up to blur his vision, “I know this is the worst time and I know that it’s-“

“Haz, what are you doing?”

He stops dead, lips parting slightly.

“I need to catch my flight, I don’t know what you want me to say... I...” You stumble, heart beating way too fast in your chest, “I can’t do this.”

“(Y/n), please,” He croaks out, hand reaching for you.

“You want this to be how I leave?” You pull away from him, “Harrison this changes everything!”

“I know, I know,” He nods, “But it’s consuming (Y/n/n). It’s killing me everyday that I’m not telling you that I love you. It’s killing me every time I convince myself that we should just be friends.”

You’re trembling as he talks - the panic of not knowing how to respond starting to trickle through your veins.

“You’re the only woman I’ll ever feel that way about.”

“Don’t say that,” You shake your head, “What do you expect me to say? Is this how badly you want me to stay?”

“No! God no!” Harrison tries to grip onto your hand again, “I just needed you to know.”

“I can’t do this Harrison, this changes everything.”

“No, no, it doesn’t have to change anything. I just-“ He stops, “There’s no way you could feel the same?”

You look at how helpless he looks and it breaks your heart into unfixable pieces, “I don’t know if I can give you an answer to that H. I didnt expect any of this.”

That’s when there’s a call for your flight. Perfect timing.

“I don’t need an answer. But if, or when, you find out how you feel, I’ll be waiting here (Y/n). I’ll always be waiting.”

With one last look at the possibility he’d left you, you pick up your bag and walk away - tears streaming down your face for a reason you’d never expected. You don’t have to look back to know he’s still stood there. And you don’t want to look back. You just let him leave you with those words.

I’ll always be waiting.

[shirtlesssammy]

6x01: Exile on Main St.

Then:

The Apocalypse that didn’t stick

Now:

One year later, Dean’s living his apple pie life. 

We get a glimpse into that life: Cut with memories of Dean’s former life, we see Dean make breakfast for Ben, work construction, share brewskies with neighbors, show Ben the ropes of car maintenance, and check the perimeter of his home (because that’s what war veterans do when they have severe and unchecked PTSD.) He’s got a very soft life, but he still keeps a shotgun and holy water under his bed. 

He’s out having a beer with his neighbor, and his neighbor wants all the details of his life before suburbia. Dean gives a cover story of “Pest control.” 

The waitress gives Dean her number (and who can blame a girl for trying?), but Dean’s taken and he tears the number up. Later, when leaving the bar, Dean hears a scream in the distance. With a flashlight in hand, he goes to investigate. 

It’s pigeons! No, wait, there are claw marks and blood on the wall.

Later, he’s scanning the police dispatches and on the phone with the cops. Lisa walks in and Dean covers by saying he’s setting up a poker game. At 11:30pm.

Dean checks the perimeter before going to bed.

While driving the next day, he sees claw marks on a telephone pole. He pulls over and finds shredded sheets in someone’s backyard. He heads for the garden shed, gun drawn. It also has claw marks, and something is inside.

It’s Dean’s #1 Nemesis, a Yorkie!

The dog takes off, and Dean’s neighbor sees Dean with a gun. His cover this time: “Possums kill.” Good one, Dean! Dean then sees sulfur on the shed floor. 

He rushes home to load up on supplies. Lisa walks into the garage, and Dean acts like he’s just grabbing a hammer. She asks about the dog, and then asks if he’s hunting something. He admits to his OCD about this situation, asks her to go to the movies with Ben, and he’ll do one final check in the area. He’s definitely downplaying what he thinks is happening. 

After Lisa leaves, he starts looking through his dad’s journal, but stops when the lights start to flicker and he hears a noise. He turns to see Azazel right beside him. Azazel mocks Dean and tells him that God brought Cas back, why not him? “Add a little spice to all that sugar.” Wow, never paid attention to that line before. Dean shoots him but it does nothing. Azazel puts Dean in a choke hold. “You can’t outrun your past,” he tells Dean. And just before he passes out, Sam (!) comes behind Azazel and stabs him with a syringe of something. 

Dean comes to in a derelict building and Sam, or something looking like Sam is with him. 

Sam tells Dean that he was poisoned and what he’s been seeing isn’t real. He’s real though. Of course! He goes through the silver/holy water/salt routine and passes with flying colors. 

Dean hugs his brother. He doesn’t quite believe it though. Sam has no clue how he’s back. “Was it God, or Cas?” Dean wonders. Yes. 

Cas isn’t answering Sam’s prayers. 

Sam then admits to being back about a year. EEESH. Something seems off about our Moose. Ahem. He tells Dean that he deserves a regular life (YOU BOTH DO.) and that he’s been hunting this whole time with --family. Dean meets Gwen, Parker Lewis Christian, and Mark...Campbell. They’re all distant cousins of Mary’s. And then the real surprise walks in: Samual Campbell, Mary’s long dead father. 

Every now and again, I have to stop and take a moment to think about the fact that Walter Skinner is Sam and Dean’s grandfather and my little fandom mind just explodes. It’s like that time that Sam Beckett dated Murphy Brown. I swear. 

Dean needs a moment too, because multiple unexplained resurrections in one day is A LOT. 

Dean is 100% freaked out by all the revelations. Sam adds one more to the pile. A few days prior, he was attacked by a djinn and they think the same djinn is after Dean. Oh, and djinn totally blend into all of humankind now - visible markings are now optional. Samuel happens to know a cure for djinn poison. “Stick around and I’ll show you tricks your daddy never dreamed of!” Samuel promises chirpily. Aaaaand suddenly I gain a greater understanding of the kind of bullshit posturing Mary put up with from the men in her life. Dean realizes that djinn gunning for him means that Lisa and Ben are also in the crosshairs. He and Sam race back to Lisa’s house. 

Outside the house, Campbell cousin #??? sits dead in his car. The door to the house stands open and nobody answers Dean’s calls. Dean’s busy ascending to the ninth plane of freaked out when Lisa returns. Dean gives her a MEGA hug and then orders everyone to pack their bags for a little trip. Lisa is shocked to see Not-At-All-Dead Sam. Welcome to the supernatural, Lisa!

Bobby answers his door with a soft “damn it” because he knows that Dean’s presence means things have gone cockeyed.

Bobby shoos them upstairs where they have “plenty of Reader’s Digests” on hand to entertain them. JUST LIKE THAT I am transported to my grandma’s farmhouse and the stacks of Reader’s Digests we’d go through during our visits. Thanks for being so goddamn old, Bobby!

Bobby and Sam greet each other casually and Dean realizes that those two yahoos have been keeping the truth of Sam’s resurrection from him for...A YEAR. A yeAr. 

Bobby explains that he was thrilled that Dean escaped the life and tried to do whatever he could to let Dean keep that. (Crying noise crying noise) Dean reveals that his apple pie life was anything but...he drank too much, had nightmares, and researched lore like crazy to find a way to spring Sam from the cage. 

Lisa heads downstairs and Dean tells her he’s headed back to the house with Sam to hunt the djinn that attacked him. He apologizes to Lisa for bringing monsters back into her life. “You can’t outrun your past,” he says and she immediately sees through the lines. 

“You’re saying goodbye,” Lisa surmises. 

Readers of this blog know that I am TEAM LISA, which means that I love her very much and wish her every happiness in life. She stands up for what she wants. “You're always so amazing with Ben. You know what I wanted more than anything was a guy that Ben could look up to...like a dad. So, you're saying it's all bad, Dean? 'Cause it was the best year of my life.” Oof.

Sam and Dean return to Campbell headquarters and the Campbells are just a tiny sea of smug assholes. They needle Dean about his time away from hunting. Dean takes this needling EXTREMELY WELL, and offers himself up as bait for the hunt. 

At Lisa’s house, the Campbells scoff and smirk at their various belongings. A magazine! A framed photograph! What frivolity! Such decadence! Sam discovers golf clubs though, and even I have to take a moment to drink in the image of Dean on a golf course. 

Samuel approaches Dean (who is very much on guard at this point) and tells him that Dean reminds him of Mary. She wanted a normal life too. Excuse me while I cry in your FACES. Samuel also drops that the supernatural world has been going bonkers lately. It’s keeping hunters busier than ever. If Dean joined the hunt again he could really make a difference.

Dean heads outside for a status check with Campbell cousin #?!? and learns that there are three djinn lurking in the distance. They won’t approach until Sam and Dean are alone, so Dean orders the Campbells to clear out. 

Sam uses the wait to ask Dean how he’s doing.

Dean’s NOT GREAT but he still asks Sam how Hell was and if he wants to talk. Great idea! Keep the conversation light and nontraumatic for both of you! Sam pushes away those concerns - he’s FINE. Just then, Dean happens to glance out the window and sees djinn attacking his neighbors. Dean rushes the antidote over to Sid and his wife, but two djinn grab ahold of him, smash the antidote, and start to poison him. Dean falls to their thrall.

Sam beats the stuffing out of another djinn with a golf club only to find himself confronted with the other two who’d attacked Dean. 

Meanwhile, Dean’s busy trying to sort out reality from djinn-soaked fiction. He sees the djinn confronting Sam in the house next door and outside he spots Lisa and Ben. Azazel suddenly appears to spice up the pot. 

Dean “wakes up” in Ben’s room. Lisa gets drawn to the ceiling to suffer Azazel’s favorite kill while Ben drinks his blood. The room explodes in fire. 

Dean continues to do VERY POORLY while Sam works to fight off the last two djinn. Samuel arrives and kills a djinn. He shoos Sam off to help Dean and he and another Campbell capture (but don’t kill) the last djinn. We’ll see her again near the end of the season!

Later, Dean tells Sam that he’s going to head back to collect Lisa and Ben. Sam’s doubtful about this plan. He tells Dean that he’ll put them in danger if he stays with them. Besides, Sam wants Dean hunting by his side again. Dean “cares” about helping the victims and Sam “wouldn’t even think to try.” This makes ZERO sense to Dean, but Sam insists that it’s true. Dean shakes it off and hands Sam the keys to the Impala. “She should be hunting. Take her.” Sam turns it down. OUCH.

Sam heads out to hunt with his band of merry Campbells, and Dean is FINE with it.

I’m Still Hallucinating These Quotes:

Did you almost shoot a Yorkie?

Careful's my middle name

If you're here, something's wrong

You can't outrun your past

The guy that basically just saved the world shows up at your door? You expect him to have a couple of issues

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive! 

[mraaronwhite]

THE GOLDFISH

We sat in the conservatory of my weathered, beach side cottage, overlooking some tomato plants and a splintered oak bench that I collectively called my back garden. Now, being a cottage, you would be forgiven for thinking that this was a small affair, the kind of cottage that malicious, child-eating witches would inhabit deep in the woods. Not this cottage though. There was actually too much room believe it or not. Well, too much room for a man and his cat at least.

You see, I grew up in a cramped, narrow excuse for a flat in Edinburgh. Usually being able to touch two opposing walls at once. So, when I inherited this place, a fortnight ago, from my recently deceased Aunt, it was a breath of fresh air to say the least. It felt like the perfect excuse to have a party. Not to celebrate my Aunt just dying (she was a grumpy old boot, mind you) but rather the fact that after twenty-three years of always wanting a place of my own, I finally had it.

I messaged the group chat, letting them know of the upcoming shindig to mark my housewarming, informing them that they would all be coming. None of them having a choice in the matter, I joked. There were ten of them in the group, eleven including myself, and we had been inseparable since the later years of high school. That fact surprises most people actually. Given that when folk head off to university, college or go backpacking through Asia, they normally lose contact. After all, it’s a perfect chance to reinvent yourself, and doing that sometimes means saying goodbye to some folk.

Not us though. We had to be different. Having nearly been out of high school for as long as we were in it, our collective friendship was as strong as it ever. We hadn’t all been together in nearly a year as well, so when I sent out the invites, they all jumped at the chance.

 The night itself exceeded my wildest expectations. We laughed, we sang, we laughed again. It was a night of pure merriment and happiness and it will live forever in my head as one of the high points of my life.  As I sighed a breath of relief when I moved into my sand surrounded home, I did the same when I saw all my friends together again that night. My face literally started to hurt with the amount of smiling I was doing, which only made me smile all the more.

All good things must come to an end though I thought, and as the clock flashed one in the morning, the designated drivers began ferrying home their passengers. Before they left however, we had but one tradition to enact. An exclusively Scottish ritual that you have to do at the end of a good party. Listening to Runrig’s Loch Lomond at full volume and jumping up and down like a bunch of toddlers on a sugar high. Once the song was over however, the party was too unfortunately. One by one, they said their farewells and staggered down my grassy strewn path. They waved and honked their horns until eventually they fell out of sight, becoming part of the jumbled mess of streetlights and other late-night travellers.

 I ventured back inside my new home and couldn’t help but feel lonely. Lonelier than I had in a while. At least I had Bean though, I thought to myself. She was my ashen-haired feline companion, and we’d been through thick and thin together. I don’t know what I’d do without her to be honest. She’s a nervous wee thing though and doesn’t do well around crowds, so had been chilling in the spare room for the night. That was until I opened the door of course, and then she was out of there at damn near mach four.

As she sniffed and scratched her way around the room, I flung myself into the heap of cushions and blankets people had sat on in the conservatory, their lazy attempt of tidying up before their departure I concluded. I sighed, letting out a small chuckle. Planning on just kipping there for the night, I shut my eyes and soon felt myself drifting off into the endless depths of my unconscious.

A distant toilet flushing filled the house and swiftly brought me back to reality. Then click clack, click clack, click clack. Footsteps. They were closing in and at this point I was on my feet, starting to panic. I had never been in a fight before, but I was about to be if my theory of a murderer checked out. In my drunken state, I never thought to question why someone would go to the toilet before killing me. I looked about the conservatory, trying to see something I could use to defend myself and grabbed the first thing that came to me. A tube of Paprika flavoured Pringles. In hindsight, I could have probably picked something a little more useful, but hey ho, that’s what a night of binge drinking and anxiety gets you. Then as the “Murderer” got closer, she appeared in the doorway. Clio DeLuca. My best friend.

 “Where did everyone go??” she said, cool as a cucumber, leaning on the frame of the door.

“They left like half an hour ago” I replied, my face a picture of confusion “What the hell are you still doing here though?? We all thought you left ages ago” I asked, half laughing, while letting out a sigh of relief.

“Funny story. I went to the toilet and kinda just fell asleep half way through.” She told me, sitting down the arm of the raggedy couch. Then flopping onto my makeshift bed, that I had been nice and comfy on only moments before.

“What are you like??” I said, now properly belly laughing. “You might as well get comfy, the buses stopped at eleven.” I paused “Sooo, do you want another drink?”

“Yeah but my heads splitting, nothing hard.” I was about to offer her some of the special stuff but she got in before me “Oooh in fact, have you got any hot chocolate??” She asked, looking up at me with those wild green eyes, that I first met oh so long ago.

“Now we’re talking” I exclaimed with glee “I’ve got just the thing!” I then marched off into the kitchen, meeting Bean as she was having a nibble at some of her biscuits. I flicked the kettle on and shouted through “What one you fancying then?”

“I dunno - hic” she mumbled. The sounds of her then rolling off the couch and wandering through soon followed. “What kind - hic - you got?” she asked, parking herself at my breakfast bar.

“Weeeell” I started, opening my cupboard I that housed my secret obsession “I’ve got your normal supermarket kinds - Cadburys, Galaxy, Bournville?”

“Yeah, one of them is fine” she chimed in.

“Nah, that’s the boring stuff. I’ve also got white chocolate, orange, peppermint, vanilla bean, salte” Bean scuttled into the room, hearing this, thinking I was talking to her, to which prompted Clio to scoop her up.

“Well hiii, where have you been hiding all night??” Bean purred, gladly accepting the cuddles and attention. Clio looked back up at me, staring through her shadowy locks that fell onto her face like a waterfall in the night. “Please continue” she smiled, nodding at the cupboard, all the while still scratching Bean’s belly.

“Ah yes, where we, so we’ve got salted caramel flavour, cinnamon, apple pie and the Pièce de résistance of my collection, genuine Peruvian hot chocolate.” I turned back to her “Think I’m gonna go for the Peruvian blend, you?” I asked. She was back looking at Bean again, given her some more lovin’. She’s always had the attention span of a goldfish, and I always found it quite funny. “I’ll just make the you the same” I laughed.

“Sorry, aye, sounds lovely.” I spooned the mixture into two bulky mugs, hearing purring and some meows coming from behind me. “Sooo” she started, “When did you become the Ramona Flowers of hot chocolate?” she jested.

“What you talking about, I’ve always been into hot chocolate?” she started to speak before I cut her off “Cream and marshmallows by the way??”

“Ooh yes please” Her eyes lit up “But yeah, I know you’ve always liked it but this is like obsessed. Like I’m scared if I don’t like this” she paused, while pointing her head at our mugs “that you might actually kill me.” She looked so sincere as she told me this.

“Shut up” I pleaded, in the moaniest voice I could muster “You know, I don’t have to let you sleep here tonight, I’m doing it out of the pure goodness of my heart.”

“Nah I’m being serious, and once the papers find out, you’ll probably get a cool nickname as well. The hot chocolate killer, perhaps? Whadda ya think, Bean?” She gave a solemn meow.

“Fuc..” she cut me off, looking aghast, while covering Beans ears.

“There’s children present” she shot back, with a hint of faux anger and a wry grin. I then simply mouthed my retort, all the while giving her the finger. Then, just as quickly, she flipped it right back at me. We then both had a good giggle as I stirred our drinks, plopped in the marshmallows and squirted the cream on top.

“Shall we?” I asked, while gesturing to the conservatory with my head as my hands were full. She cradled Bean like a new-born, stood up and we both made our way through.

 I gently placed our steaming mugs down on the glass topped coffee table, moving some meekly filled beer bottles out of the way to give us some room. We both fell back into the warm embrace of the couch, prompting Bean to hop out off Clio’s lap and curl up between the two of us.

My Bluetooth speaker, which sat in the corner atop some books, echoed out the tunes of my Spotify playlist which I had shuffled at the beginning of the party. Turning it to a whisper when folk left, I turned it back up again to fill the room with some life.

Looking about, the room, and the rest of the house was an absolute state. Crisps everywhere, too many cider cans to count and an embarrassing amount of smarties lay scattered about the floor, from when I was trying to toss them up and catch in my mouth earlier in the party. A dozen or so polaroids were sprinkled about the place as well, and when one caught my eye lurking under the armchair in the corner I got up and quickly collected the rest. “Get any good snaps?” Clio asked, while taking a generous sip of her hot chocolate, leaving a lovely big creamy moustache under her petit, turned up nose. I smiled, deciding not to tell her. “Daaamn, this is gooood!” she exclaimed, in a warm, satisfied tone, telling me she loved the drink just as much as I did.

“Told ya!” trying to not look smug “Let’s see here” I pondered, thumbing through the small pile of photos. “Hmmha” I grinned, looking at Clio, who was puffing her cheeks and making her eyes go crossed “That’s a good ‘un” handing it to her. She flung herself back onto the seat, seeing the picture.”

“Oh my God, what the hell is wrong with us?” she chortled, leaning forward again to take another sip of the sweet goodness. Her face then quickly soured “Can you skip this one, it reminds me of when I worked in Asda. They played the same six songs on repeat. It was actually hell.”

“Us!?” I asked her, while I pulled out my phone, skipping to the next song “Speak for yourself! I take only good photos.”

“Is that right?” she laughed back, cocking her head, proceeding then to snatch the bundle of photos from my hands. “We’ll see about that” in a determined tone, while furrowing her brow. I took the opportunity to indulge in the heated sweetness of my mug and no less than ten seconds later “Here, look at this, what the hell are you doing with your lips?” shoving the polaroid at my face.

“Its called blue steel, look it up” I confidently hit back.

“I dunno what that is but you LOOK like a goldfish”

“I think you’ll find I look damn sexy” making sure to sound as cocky and arrogant as I could.

“And by sexy” doing air quotes with her fingers “I take it you mean the lesser known definition of the word, meaning to look like you live at the aquarium at Dobbies?” she ranted, putting one her best condescending voice as she could.

“You know, sometimes, your words, they hurt.” Looking back at her, attempting to appear actually upset and offended. She could always see right through my piss poor acting skills though, and we both just started giggling again.

This is the norm for when me and Clio hang out. I make fun of her, she makes fun of me, we laugh about it and on and on it goes. It’s been our routine since primary four, when we first met, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

The rest of that night was no exception, we bantered about for a bit then did some actual serious talking as well. Our sexuality, putting the world to rights, family shit. The usual kind of deep topics you chat about after a night of drinking and partying, and before we knew it, I looked at my phone and it flashed 4:33AM.

  Bean had migrated over to the open window by this point, she was doing some serious loafing. Presumably to cool down I thought. The dregs of our hot chocolate sat in the now cold mugs and the two of us were cosy under a massive blanket. Her head gently rested on my shoulder.

I peered out through the double doors that lead to my garden, amalgamating into the sands and shells of the dark beach. The North Sea lay before me, stretching as far as the eye could see, eventually bleeding into the never ending abyss of space. An army of stars littering its canvas, shining down on us mere mortals below.

I stared at the colossal entity that was the cosmos, trying to make shapes out of its burning suns. I was at a loss at how the early astronomers of prehistory were able to see anything apart from a jumble of distant polka dots. “Hey” I whispered, gently nudging my shoulder.

“Hmm” She softly moaned to let me know she was listening.

“Do you see anything up there? You know, in the stars.” I continued, still whispering. She craned her neck back and opened her wild grassy eyes to look up at the sky above.

“I dunno” she looked from corner to corner, eventually pointing toward the right of where we were sitting “There’s Orion’s belt.”

“Nah like I mean something new, not an already existing constellation.” I prodded.

“I really can’t say. What can you see?” she asked, shutting her eyes getting comfy under the blanket again. I gazed about the dark blue sky with great curiosity. Then, directly in front of me, high above the wispy clouds I faintly made out the shape of goldfish. Probably because it was on my mind from earlier, but nevertheless, I could see it clear as day. I jostled Clio’s head once again.

“Look, there, right in front of us. Can you see a goldfish?” Groggily sitting up, she focused to where I was pointing and tilted her head.

“Yeah, I can actu…” She trailed off, as did my music. Both of us were looking at the fish in the sky, but now, the stars in our newly discovered constellation were twitching and swirling. They also began glowing much brighter than the other stars in the sky. Both of us were transfixed. The whole thing eventually started pulsing. Going dim and then shining bright. It was slow at first but then gradually got faster and faster. Then, and I’ll remember this moment until my dying day, it appeared in front of us.

 There, in the obsidian blackness of the sky, it shone down on us. A gargantuan, glowing goldfish. It swam about as if we were looking through the cold, wet glass of an aquarium. Darting about the night sky as easily as it would have underwater. Its visage, although similar to a normal goldfish, was still very different. Apart from the obvious size distinction, the one before us existed purely as an outline defined by the stars. Its body was see-through, the same inky darkness as the rest of space. I couldn’t believe my eyes, and neither could Clio given her jaw was almost touching the floor. We were both outside by this point, wanting to get as clear a look as possible.

“Te.. tell me you’re” I mumbled “you’re seeing this as well” I eventually mustered, breaking the silence.  Clio simply nodded, staring unblinkingly at the godlike being as it swished and swooshed through the cosmos.

“Okay” she finally said “Either we’ve fallen into some weird sci-fi novel or you spiked my hot chocolate” trying to make sense of the impossibility of what was happening.

“Why isn’t it cold though? I asked, looking up and down the beach, and after a few moments had passed, she eventually processed my question prompting her whip her head at me.

“There’s a massive floating fish made out of stars in the sky and you’re worried about the weather? She half yelled, with great incredulity.

“Clio, its 5 in the morning. In February. In Scotland. It should be freezing.” She thought about what I was saying and looked about as well. “Its warm though, and there’s no wind.” I paused “And no noise for that matter.” I paused again “I don’t understand”.

“It’s weird” she started “I feel like I should be scared or freaked out or… something” she looked at me “But.. it feels right. It feels like we were meant to be here. To see” she paused, looking back at the fish who was still merrily swimming about the sky “whatever this is.”  I felt the same way, in my gut. I knew that whatever was happening wasn’t meant to hurt or frighten us. So, I began walking forward, taking Clio’s hand as I did so. We walked far onto the beach. It was still warm, still completely quiet.

We eventually reached the waters edge, as close as we could get to the being in front of us, when we notice that the sea itself had stopped. It plateaued to a complete halt. No waves. No tide. Nothing. It looked like a gigantic mirror, that stretched out past the horizon. Reflecting everything that was happening above. I bent down and dipped my fingers in, expecting it to be solid but it was just as wet as the normal sea. Just completely still. As if someone had hit the pause button.

 I sat down, cross legged on the shore, as did Clio, and we watched the fish for hours. It swam to the left, to the right. It swam far away, getting smaller, then past the horizon only to jump up again as if it was a dolphin doing tricks.

The sky was gradually getting lighter, now a dusky blue, and we both knew that the fish’s departure was upcoming. Potentially any minute now. It suddenly came to a gentle stop, high in the twilight sky. It was looking right at us, into the deep-seated depths of our souls.

Now, I’m not an emotional man, it takes a lot to upset me. Even the most heart wrenching of films doesn’t evoke a reaction. But at the very moment, I couldn’t help but shed a few tears. Not out of sadness, or even happiness. It was just raw emotion. I could tell by Clio’s sniffling that she was having a similar reaction.

Then, as mysteriously as it arrived, it vanished. Its image fading back into the now pale blue of space. The stars that made up its outline, in their original position. It’s retreat from our world meant that it was back to normal, and in perfect synchronisation, the temperature dropped to just above zero, the wind blew at our backs and the once static waves drenched us in salty seawater.

Needless to say we both screamed out in discomfort, then looking at each other deep in the eyes, we embraced. I hugged her tighter than I had ever before, never in my life had I felt as close to someone as I did in that moment and I could tell she felt the same way. We swiftly then ran back to my cottage to warm up. After a nice warm and soapy shower, a fresh change of clothes (her having to borrow some shorts and a hoodie) she joined me on the couch, where we first saw the big fish, only a few hours ago.

 We sat in the conservatory, in silence for the most part. My tomato plants blew in the wind, gently tapping against the glass of the doors. Bean now sitting, curled up between us. Purring softly as I patted her silvery fur. Clio eventually spoke.

“Y’know, no one is gonna believe us” she said, in a solemn tone.

“No” I sighed, while shaking my head.

“Then why should we tell them” she exclaimed. “They’d think we were insane”. I acknowledged her sense; everyone, anyone we told, would think we were mad.

“I just don’t get why” I interjected, to which she looked puzzled “Why did that happen to us, what does it mean?”

“Does it have to mean anything?” I couldn’t help but furrow my brow, not being content with her answer “Look” she began again “When you see a sunset, a deer in the wild or you’re caught in the middle of a thunderstorm, do you ask why?” She paused, looking at me “No, you just enjoy them for what they are. Beautiful acts of nature.”

“But what we saw, Clio. It was Impossible. It shouldn’t have happened. It defies all the laws of physics that we know.”

“So?” she said, shrugging, casually as ever.

“So, don’t you want to know how all of that was possible?”

“Of course, I do, but even if I did, it wouldn’t make what just happen any more meaningful. In fact I think it would detract from the whole thing.” She could tell I was confused, which only made her smile, sit right next to me and take my hand in hers “When you see a magic trick, when you see a magician pick the card you were think of from thin air, what’s the best bit about it?” She said, looking right at me, with her wild green eyes. I thought about it for a few seconds.

“The trick” she smiled even wider “The mystery of it all and the trying to work it out.”

“And if you knew how it was done?” she continued

“It would ruin it.”

“Exactly.” I finally got what she meant and appreciated our night-time visitor all the more. I put my arm around her, pulling her into another hug. Gently kissing her on the side of her head.

 Things aren’t beautiful because we understand them or know when they’re going to happen. It’s the fleeting mystery and spontaneous nature of it all that truly makes it exciting. The late-night conversations, when you can’t stop dancing with your pals, warm hot chocolate, a cat’s affection, silly photos with funny faces and stargazing with your best friend. Its moments like these that make you really appreciate the wonderfully weird gift of life.

[catchester]

12 Days of Christmas

Title: Epiphany 

Authors: @evieplease​​​​ and @catchester​​​​

Which character: Actor!Tom and OFC Rocky

Genre: Humour/Explicit

Fic Summary: Tom and Rocky spend their first Christmas as a couple and Rocky meets Tom’s Mum for the first time. Expect 12 gifts, too much boozy, bad puns and lots of fun!

Rating: Mature

Previous Chapters: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17138390/chapters/40304798

Epiphany 

I’m not much of a cook. I mean, I can feed myself but that cordon bleu shit is way out of my wheelhouse. I don’t really have the time or patience for it anyway. Tom beats me like a drum in the cooking stakes, but if there’s one thing I can cook perfectly, it’s a steak. 

I also make wonderful, fat chips—twice cooked so they’re lovely and crispy outside, but fluffy inside. And I’ve mastered a couple of sauces, but creamy pepper is Tom’s favourite, so we’ll be having that.

I’d also bought a little bit of broccoli to ‘show willing’, as my gran used to say. It was an afterthought, but it looks pretty on the plate, so. . .

Normally I’d cook a ribeye but tonight I was going all out and had bought three, fat, juicy sirloin steaks. I was salivating just thinking about them. 

I’d even bought a new dress, a little red dress—a nice companion for my overworked little black dress. I kind of love it. It’s figure hugging, but with a little flirty flare at the hem, and an almost exact match for my crimson Sephora lip stain. Looks great with my boots too. And I know that Tom will appreciate the back view. Just wearing the thing made me want to wiggle my arse for him!

I’d spent much of the day in my workshop, which is just a fancy way of saying the garage I rent near my flat that I store my spares and heavier equipment in. I knew I was pushing things time wise, but I was nervous, okay?

The fresh layer of snow didn't help matters, snarling up traffic and meaning my errand took twice as long as it should have. 

I ended up having to leave my chips boiling while I got ready, and kept darting back to poke them with a knife. I was damn lucky I didn't overcook them and end up with mash, but somehow I didn’t. 

I had just slid into my new dress when the buzzer went, and I scrambled to do the zip up before Tom and Diana reached my front door. 

I didn’t quite make it, and had to greet Diana with my bra strap hanging out. Luckily Tom spotted my predicament and zipped me up the rest of the way, but not before Diana commented on how chilly I must be! But I got a kiss on the back of my neck from Tom, so it’s all good.

My flat might only be two bedrooms, but it was pretty spacious. I’d improved it a lot over the last five years and it was worth a small fortune thanks to London prices. I would never have been able to afford a flat in London if not for my Dad. Growing up, we’d lived in a council house, which Dad bought at a vastly reduced rate back in the 80s when Right to Buy came in. As such, his small mortgage was long paid off, and the prices had skyrocketed over the years, so when all three of his kids had flown the coop, he sold the four bedroom place and bought two flats in the same estate, but different blocks. 

We’d drawn up a contract and when I reached what he’d paid for it, he’d transfer ownership to me, or it would come to me on his death, whichever came first. My brothers would get his larger flat to share between them. Good luck to ‘em! Those boys haven’t agreed on anything but the MCU since they were ten and twelve, and I can just about predict the rows they’ll have deciding to renovate or sell Dad’s place. I plan on sitting back and enjoying the show.

One of my improvements to my place was to knock down the wall between the living room and kitchen. Where the wall used to be I kept a narrow, oblong table that folded out into one that could comfortably seat four. My extra folding chairs were kept in a cupboard. In my defence, they’re very nice folding chairs and I have cushions I can tie on… 

How naff. I’d hang my head in shame, but I know Diana will appreciate the irony.

Thank god I hadn't had time to worry like this earlier, or they’d likely have arrived to find me sloshed again! Speaking of which... 

“Can I get you a drink?” I asked, my stomach swooping, suddenly realising I should have picked up an extra bottle of wine! Bollocks! Wait, didn’t I have a nice one Tom bought as a gift a few months ago lurking at the back of a cupboard somewhere? I’d have to get it in the fridge ASAP. 

“I don't have any red wine, I’m afraid, only rosé.” I worried my lip. I’m not really a fan of red wine,  but red meat goes with red wine, and Diana would know that! 

“Oh lovely, I like a nice rosé.” Diana to the rescue! God, I love that woman. She’s so polite. 

I did find the bottle Tom had brought around before. It too was pink, but it was prosecco, not wine. Aah well, maybe that would work better as a dessert wine. Or, with luck, a fizzy celebration wine. I put it in the top of the fridge and opened the cold bottle of rosé. 

“Here you go.” I handed them each a glass, but decided to have a beer myself so the wine would go further. I did decant my bottle contents into a tall glass for a change though because I’m at least attempting to be civilised tonight. 

“You have a lovely home,” Diana said as I sat down on my L-shaped unit. It was a bargain I’d found on freecycle then re-upholstered, but it was a quality piece and looked expensive. 

It’s not that I can’t afford a new sofa, even an expensive one—my business does well and my rent to my Dad is whatever I want to pay him. I pay quite a lot because I want him to get his investment in the flat back quickly, but he wouldn't mind at all if I took a whole year off payments because he trusts me. Plus, he’s semi retired now so all he does is answer the phones and do the books, for which he claims 30% of the profits. He started the business so I don’t begrudge him, and it means he isn't desperate for my rent as his income. 

The real reason I upcycled my sofa is that she had such lovely bones, and I love crafty activities. After the renovations on the flat were done, I’d set about finding pieces I could give new life to. My bed mattress was brand new, but the headboard was second hand and recovered in a print to compliment the aqua and white paint in there. I’d stripped the old varnish off the wood parts and stained it new.

I asked Diana about the exhibition she was going to see and she explained it was actually a workshop where she’d be learning something called blackwork embroidery. I’d gathered from looking around her home that she was quite arty, but I hadn’t realised she enjoyed crafting too. It was nice to know we had something in common and I told her about a couple of my projects in the flat. I even told her the story of stapling my finger to the sofa she was sitting on, the very first time I used an upholstery gun, and she told me about some of her past projects. 

After topping up their glasses, I began preparing the meal, but I could still chat to them as I worked. They wanted their steaks medium, which everyone defines differently but after some probing I determined that they liked it red inside, but not bloody cold, which was my preference too. Okay, maybe I like mine a little bloody, but it went on the skillet only 60 seconds after theirs. 

I served my very fat chips in a sort of jenga tower with the middle bricks missing, being very careful not to wipe my greasy fingers on my red dress,  then the steaks, a very healthy dollop of peppercorn sauce, and the broccoli topped with a knob of butter on the side. 

“You led me to believe you weren’t a very good cook,” Diana gently chided me as we ate. 

“I’m not,” I assured her. “I know how to cook, like, three things really well, this, lasagne, and a cheesecake, which we’re having for desert. Everything else falls somewhere between okay and inedible.” 

“Do not ask her to cook fish,” Tom winked at me conspiratorially.

I laughed. He’d once said something about liking salmon, so I got a recipe and tried to cook it for him. It was all new to me, the only fish Dad or the boys would eat came from the fish and chips shop down the corner. Unfortunately no matter what I did the stuff tasted like dirt! Very fishy dirt! I ended up over seasoning, then overcooking it so much that it dried out and it really was inedible. 

And it still tasted like dirt!

We’d ordered a curry instead. 

“Well, these potatoes are amazing, you must give me the recipe,” Diana told me, smiling warmly at me. 

It wasn't hard, so I explained it to her as we ate. 

As well as complimenting me, Diana ooh’d and ah’d as she ate. Tom just ate steadily as if afraid someone might nick his plate if he slowed down, glancing up at me with a warm appreciative smile now and then, so I think they genuinely liked it. 

Good, Diana would probably not like it if I poisoned her boy. 

Talk of the salmon disaster naturally led onto other food related disasters, and I quickly learned I was in good company. 

“Do you remember when you left some steaks out to defrost?” Tom asked his mum. 

Apparently their neighbour’s cat had neatly chewed away all but the rind of fat while they were in the garden. Then there was the story of a time they’d been visiting a friend, and another friend’s dog had eaten the shepherd’s pie they were to be served! 

The Guinness pie was my favourite story though. It was apparently a steak pie made with Guinness gravy, that Diana loved as a child. It was her father’s recipe, basically the only thing he cooked, and then only once or twice a year, on special occasions. She swore she followed the recipe her father gave her to the letter but it was awful. 

“Turned my stomach, honestly,” she admitted, turning pink even after all these years. 

Tom was grinning. “She served us all first, then she realised she’d forgotten the pot of English mustard and told us to all tuck in. Well we did, and there’s me, my sisters and my dad just looking at each other. We all knew she’d spent all day on this and was really looking forward to it. None of us had the heart to tell her we couldn't eat it. She came back and we all plastered smiles on and told her how wonderful it was, while helping ourselves to carrots.”

“That should have been my first clue,” Diana laughed. “Honestly, you’d have thought this one was allergic to vegetables, given how hard he tried to avoid them, and there he was larding his plate with carrots!”

“Then she took one mouthful and her face just turned grey,” Tom laughed. Diana reached out and playfully smacked his shoulder.

“I still tried it a second and third time, in case I’d made a mistake, although I didn't make the family try it. I thought that perhaps the stout needed to marinate longer, or be cooked at a higher temperature so it burned off, but each attempt was just as inedible as my first bite. My father was adamant that he’d given me the exact recipe he used. I gave up in  the end and concluded that he must have substituted something else for the stout, possibly something like cider. I’ve tried other recipes with cider gravy over the years but never quite managed to replicate the same taste.”

I cleared the plates from the table but everyone wanted a little break before desert, which was fine with me. 

“Has Tom told you about our 12 days gifts?” I asked Diana as I grabbed a box from a kitchen drawer.

Suddenly I had a sort of out of body experience where I was watching myself sit with Tom and his mum, I must be mad for even considering what I was about to do...

“He’s told me all about it,” she grinned. “What a lark! It sounds like you had great fun.”

“We did, but more than that, those gifts, specifically the thought Tom had put into his, had really brought home how much he cares for me.” 

I handed Diana a gift box, about 6 inches by four, and maybe two deep. It wasn't wrapped but I had done it up in a fancy ribbon. Eventually she freed it from it’s ribbon prison and opened the lid. 

There in the middle, nestling among some tissue paper (which was hiding some printer paper because I didn't have enough tissue paper, and I wasn’t using bog paper) sat a ring box. 

“This looks interesting,” she murmured, reaching for the ring box.

I could hardly hear her over the hammering of my heart, and I couldn’t look at Tom. My hands were sweating, and my leg was jittering under the table.

As I got off my chair, my knees were trembling but I managed to move beside Diana’s chair before I collapsed to my knees. I barely made eye contact with Tom, who looked curious. 

“It’s a. . . a ring?” 

I had found an incredible rose gold, tungsten ring with a gorgeous burl wood inlay for Tom. I thought it would look warm and elegant on his left hand. It’s unusual, but once I saw it, I couldn’t even look at any bog standard men’s wedding bands. I hope he likes it. Diana’s finger traced thoughtfully over the design, so I think she liked it.

Diana looked up at me, eyebrows up and questions in her eyes. I shuffled around, less gracefully than I’d like until I was on one knee before her, in the traditional pose of a proposer. 

I desperately wanted to look at Tom to see his reaction but I didn’t dare. I’d lose my bottle, if I did...

I took the ring box from her, but I was shaking so much I had to hold it with both hands. I cleared my throat, and sternly ordered myself not to tear up out of sheer nerves.

“This last year taught me a lot about Tom and our relationship, and I suppose you could say I’d had an epiphany about how much your son has come to mean to me. With that in mind, Diana, I..” My voice cracked and I had to clear it and try again.  “I wonder if you would do me the honour of becoming my Mother-in-Law? 

The next three seconds seemed to last an hour. Diana’s mouth opened in surprise as she stared down at the ring. Not unpleasantly surprised, but, oh god, she also wasn't answering me... 

I shouldn't have done it this way, I shouldn't have brought Diana into this. I’d just thought it was a funny and quirky way to include her, but of course, she couldn't answer for Tom. This was such a stupid idea! 

I saw Diana’s gaze flick in Tom’s direction and still couldn’t look at him. I kept my eyes steady on hers and wished the ground would open up to swallow me whole. Hell, it could take my whole apartment, as long as this nightmare stopped! 

I could feel my eyes pricking with tears of humiliation. I should have got drunk again, then I’d probably be passed out and unable to make a fool of myself. Again. I lifted my chin and grabbed courage with both hands, waiting for the verdict.

Suddenly there was an arm around my shoulder and I realised Tom was kneeling beside me. 

“Please, Mum, say yes!” 

I’ve never felt so much relief as when I heard him say that. I swayed on my knees and my surroundings spun briefly as all the air seemed to rush back into the room.

Diana’s hand moved to her chest, patting it as if she’d had heart palpitations, her eyes twinkling down at me.

“Well I don’t know…” she deliberately drew out her response, the tease! “Don’t you think this is... awfully sudden, dear?”

I narrowed my eyes at her. What was she on about? She looked just exactly like Tom when he was about to spring a horrible pun on me, the same sly little smile lurking about her lips. 

“I’m trying to think what those vows would be... ‘Do you, Rocky, take this woman, Diana, as your Awful Wedded Mother-in-Law? To poke and to prod, to stick her nose in where it isn’t wanted, and to generally make herself a pain in your arse? So help you baby Jesus?’

I grinned. Yep, I definitely wanted her! Tom choked beside me, laughing.

“Diana, that is exactly what I had in mind!” I nodded my head hard, my hair bouncing wildly around my head. “So, um, will you?”

Diana reached down and carefully pulled a strand of hair from my mouth, tenderly tucking it behind my ear, her eyes softened into the exact shade Tom’s get. Her hand cupped my cheek gently.

“Yes Rocky, I’d be delighted to be your Mother-in-Law.” she said softly. I heard Tom’s breath gust out in relief beside me. I knelt up, throwing my arms around her and squeezing hard. “Thank you,” I whispered into her hair. I cleared my throat, because I was not going to cry on Tom’s mum.

Diana put her hands on my arms, gently pushing me away, her eyes going behind me.

“I think there’s someone who wants his turn…”

Before I could even look his way, Tom had pulled me onto his thighs, wrapping his arms around me tightly and hugging me hard. One hand went into my hair and pulled my face up to his. There were tears in his eyes, and a crooked smile on his lips.

“Yes please, Rocky.”

Then he was kissing me fiercely, and by god, I was giving back, my hands clutching his shirt.

“Ahem…” Diana cleared her throat. I pulled away from Tom long enough to glance round at her.

“But you said I could have him!” I grumbled at her, hiding my elated laugh. Her eyes laughed right back at me.

“Yes dear, but not right now, if you please! I believe I was promised cheesecake!”

***

We put Diana in a cab back to Tom’s for the night, hugs and kisses all around. She even pinched my cheek! Tom and I stood, arms around each other’s waists, waving goodbye to her as she drove off 

“What would you have done if she’d said ‘no’?” Tom’s tone was slyly curious as we made our way back up the stairs to my second floor flat. I blanched.

“Died of humiliation?” Even thinking of the possibility gave me cold shivers. But Tom had slid to his knees next to me.

“What would you have done?” I turned my face up to his, wondering if he’d have gone along with his mum. Tom scowled.

“Rocky, you know I love my mum. But I’d have told her to…” Tom stalled out as he considered his words. I cocked my head, waiting.

“I’d have told her to bugger off,” said the very civilised, posh idiot. I gasped, only then realising that I’d been holding my breath. 

“But Rocky,” Tom stopped before the door to my flat and raised my chin to look into my eyes. “That was never going to happen, my love. Because Mum loves me, and she knows I love you. Also,” he grinned, “Mum likes you. And now she finds you very engaging.”

Well shit. My eyes teared up at least as much from the sentiment as from the pun. I stood on my toes and kissed him.

Tom opened my door and ushered me in, turning to close the door behind us. When he turned back, I pushed him against it, holding him there with a hand in the center of  his chest.

My other hand slid down his torso to the waistband of his trousers, flicking the button open and sliding the zip down, ratcheting slowly.

I stared into his eyes, watching them darken from their Caribbean blue to steel, the creases at the corners of his eyes tightening.

“Rocky…” he breathed.

“Shhh…” I replied, slipping my hand into his trousers to grasp him. The posh idiot never wore pants, which was calculated to make me rethink the ‘posh’ part. Somehow, knowing that he was bare behind that zipper made me hard.

When my hand encountered all that hard, silky steel. Practically leaping into my hand, I could feel my pussy clench in sheer anticipation. I wanted that hard cock inside me, like, yesterday! 

Oh wait. It was inside me yesterday!

I wrapped my hand carefully and firmly around his shaft, my thumb extending over his bell end to protect him from any chance zip or harsh denim scraping against that tender, sensitive tip.

I like that cock. I wasn’t going to allow it to be hurt on my watch! Besides, if it was going to be mine for the rest of my natural life, forsaking all others, it was in my best interest to see to its proper care and feeding!

My hand tightened around him, just thinking what I wanted to feed it into. Tom lifted a hand and set it onto the column of my throat. I swallowed, feeling my throat move against his palm.

Tom’s head was tilted down watching me as I blindly explored his cock with my hand, palming his length and running my fingertips up his shaft, all the way to the edge of his foreskin. I ran my finger around the rim, gently pushing it down and freeing the vulnerable, delicate bit of skin right beneath his cock head.

I lifted my forefinger, dipping it into the drop of precome waiting there for me, dropping down and letting my finger glide around the edge of his foreskin on the slick fluid, being sure to slide over the tender skin of his bell. How can something so soft be so hard?

I think of myself as hard, but I’m soft for Tom. Really, the only thing to do is to make him mine. Thank god he said yes. Or…

“Um…”  I cleared my throat as I continued to glide my finger over him. “You did say yes, didn’t you? I mean, you get that having your mum as my mother-in-law actually entails you marrying me, right?” I lifted my eyes and searched his.

The blue of his eyes softened. His nose nuzzled below my ear.

“I do, Rocky. And yes, I will.”

All the air left my body and my fingers clenched on him, one hand on his chest, my nails digging into his skin, the other around his cock.

Tom hissed, and his hips shot forward into my fist, forcing his cock through the tight ring of my fingers.

“God, Rocky…” he groaned, his hands moving into my hair, thumbs on my jaw as he leaned down to kiss me roughly.

I stroked that silky smooth, incredibly hard length against my palm. Tom tore his mouth away, breaking our kiss and breathing hard. I took my opportunity to slip to my knees in front of him.

“Rocky...you don’t have-” He gasped.

“Tom,” I said sharply, “if you finish that sentence with ‘don’t have to suck my cock’, I might do you an injury!”

I squeezed his shaft, just to be clear what part might be injured.

“Right,” Tom gasped, “carry on, then.” He swallowed audibly hard, his hands clenching in my hair.

I grinned cheekily at him. “Don’t mind if I do!”

I dragged my free hand down his torso, firmly pushing his back against the door. I took a quick swipe at him with my tongue from stalk to tip and grinned up at him.

“I do what I want!”

I wrapped my lips around the head and gave a suck, swirling my tongue tip over and around the head.

I felt Tom’s deep throated groan vibrate through his body and onto my tongue. Stopping for a second, I looked up at him, for once with no quip on the tip of my tongue.

“I love you, Tom.”

Tom’s eyes completely dilated and he thrust into my fist, his cockhead pushing between my lips, and suddenly he was coming against my mouth. 

My hand pumped over his cock, squeezing and pulling his climax from him, licking his come from around my lips and working the rest out in hot ropes onto my neck and chest.

Tom made a tortured noise, his hands clenching in my hair and hips thrusting helplessly. I gentled my hand, holding it still and warm over his softening shaft as he panted above me.

“Rocky…”

I tore my eyes away from the sight softening in my hand and looked up.

“You undo me, my love.”

His hands moved to my arms and lifted me to stand, wrapping his arms and body around me like a loving cloak.

I nuzzled my nose into the patch of hair in the center of his chest.

“Love you, Tom,” I murmured into his skin, speaking directly to his thumping heart. The arms around me tightened.

“Come along. I have something for you.”

“I hope it’s a hot flannel!”

Tom snickered and trod across the room into the kitchen, dragging me to the sink and wetting a tea towel. He wiped us both clean, and tossed the towel on the side.

He’d left his tablet on the table. Pulling a chair out, he sat, tugging me down onto his lap. He reached for the tablet.

I was wondering if he planned to treat me to porn, or puppies. I never know with Tom, which is of course, one of the things I love about him. He swiftly swiped through a few screens and brought up a file.

“Here, what do you think?” He pushed the tablet into my hands and set his chin on my shoulder, looking over me at the screen.

My hand flew to my mouth, fingers trembling over it as I stared down at a page of gorgeous, conflict free, diamond engagement rings.

“I didn’t want to choose one without you, and I honestly didn’t know what sort you’d like, since you never wear rings or other jewelry,” Tom murmured.

My hand dropped down to the partridge in a pear tree necklace Tom had given me on the First Day of Christmas. 

“Except your partridge,” he acknowledged. “But I chose that, so I really have no idea what your taste in jewelry is.

I was speechless as Tom slowly scrolled through several pages of rings, all sorts, my eyes filling as it finally dawned on me that Tom had been planning to ask me, or was at least thinking about it, when a teardrop landed on the screen. His arm stole around my waist as he turned his head and kissed my neck.

I sniffled, slightly embarrassed, and let out a watery laugh.

“What’s funny, love?”

I sniffled again. “I got engaged today, and here you are, making me cry.”

Tom chuckled.

“Though it might just be PMS.” 

Tom lifted his head with a great shout of laughter. “Oh darling, with you it’s probably the entire alphabet!” Tom teased.

He brought up another page, this time with rubies and sapphires and such. My breath caught at a dark red, square cut stone with two smaller, smokey coloured square cut stones set on either side, all swirled about in a fanciful gold setting. It was stunning,

I reached out a finger and touched it. The image changed, showing other angles of the ring.

“Ooh, I like that one!” Tom wriggled a bit under me in his enthusiasm. “You like coloured stones? Unusual settings? So much better than boring old diamonds, don’t you think? Bloody marvelous, aren’t they?”

I nodded, my throat tight. I hadn’t even given any thought to a ring for me, yet. 

“Tom, I must tell you though, it’s unlikely that I’ll wear it much. With my job, my hands are in and out of all sorts of muck…”

“That’s alright then.” Tom hugged me. “There are plenty of times that I can’t wear jewelry on my job, too. On stage or filming, and so forth. We’ll just have to work out a routine for taking them off before going to work, and putting them back on when we get home. Think of it as putting on and taking off your shoes, only in reverse!”

My head spun with all the things that we haven’t talked about. Oh my god, I don’t know how to throw a wedding! Budget, guest list, venue, flowers, bridesmaids, grooms men,  catering, open or closed bar, the dress… the list seemed endless and I knew I was probably forgetting a dozen other things. 

“I guess there’s still loads of things to work out before we do this thing, right?”

“We can take as long as we need,” he soothed, sensing my unease. “And if we want, there are people we can hire who take care of the organisation.” 

“Okay,” I took a deep breath and tried to relax. “As long as you don’t expect me to look like some giant, frothy meringue.” 

“Never,” he laughed. “And if you get one of those dresses with a thousand pearly buttons down the back, expect them to get torn off on the wedding night.”

The idea of being torn out of my wedding dress actually turned me on a little. Is that bad? 

“Oh, you like that idea,” Tom purred. 

“It’s not the worst idea I’ve heard.”

“Well I’ll have to practice,” he told me, his face the picture of sincerity. “We’ll start easy, maybe try ripping a robe off, then we’ll graduate to t-shirts and shirt-shirts and before you know it’ I’ll be ready to destroy your wedding dress in my haste to get to you.” 

“Or,” I said, holding a finger up as I presented my counter argument, “You could just destroy me right now and I’ll wear a white string bikini on the wedding day.” 

“Only if I get to wear white speedos.”

“Fine, but you also need a white bow tie.” 

Imagining literally the worst of the worst white trash wedding was kind of fun. 

“And white flip-flops,” Tom added. 

“What about if we want a winter wedding?” I asked. 

“White wet suits,” he answered without missing a beat. “I’ll draw a string bikini on yours in Sharpie marker pen.”

“And I’ll be sure to outline your English countryside. Very much looking forward to shading in your arse crack.”

That was the remark that made us lose it and we laughed until our sides hurt. 

Eventually we calmed down, with just the occasional giggle reemerging as we lay there. 

“Now correct me if I’m wrong,” Tom purred, “but I believe there was some mention of me destroying you?” 

“Well yes. I’d hate for you to be embarrassed on the wedding night because we hadn’t practised.”

I swear I heard him growl as he pounced on me, his smile positively wolfish. 

Oh dear, I had awoken the beast and now I was doing to pay. 

I shivered in anticipation. 

[bagof2780teeth]

The Story of My Crush and I

Yes, this is gonna be a very useless lesbian story about me and my crush.

No, I'm not exaggerating with uselessness. I really am that useless and that much of a clueless bottom.

So hold on tight and follow this rollercoaster of emotions (I might promise too much, but idc, just read it)

Oh, and also, I can and will advertise this as butch x femme bc she's like,,, the butch girl of your dreams and I am the emo femme.

We met because of a mutual friend (let's call her A). So A and I were online friends but luckily we only live like 1h by car or 2 by train apart so she invited me to her birthdays where I met her friends and also my crush. I think we knew right from the beginning that everyone (except for A) is gay. Same interests in music, tv shows, whatever, I get along with A's friends very well. Which is great. Obviously.

I don't know at what point I started crushing. But I knew that on the second birthday party of A I was invited to we were playing truth or dare and I got to choose who I want to kiss. I wanted to say my crush but I was too awkward so I got to kiss A herself and another of her friends. But not my crush. Later that year (it must have been the same year) A, my crush and I went to the cinema together to watch Love, Simon, it was summer. I lowkey hoped for some kind of arm/hand touching action, you know? But yeah, nothing happened, but crush and I always looked at each other when you could see some reference to panic at the disco (brendon urie our lord and saviour). That's that. About 1.5 years ago now.

I possibly had some kind of "relationship" of two weeks with a boy, I regret it. I never wanted my crush to know, bc I still wanted to have a chance. Yeaaaah, let's just not talk about it.

About one year ago, A set crush and me up on a "date" (apparently we both were complaining that we wanted a girlfriend.). I think it was around that time when I told A that I actually have a crush on my crush.

So we went to a Christmas market, we were just walking around, at some point we got chips and she was like "I'll pay" and I died a little. Yeah, that's the most "intense" it got, no holding hands or anything. Pretty disappointing, right?

I think the next time we met was my Birthday party. She and A stayed over night because of the distance so it's just less stressful. I actually was invited to her birthday party as well but my (not anymore) best friend decided to have hers on the same day so I thought since I was closer with my best friend, her party was the right decision.

Crush is literally one day younger than me, btw.

So since A's birthday is also in the same month (march, my people, it's insane) A's party was the next time we met. And again all of the other friends I already knew. At some point crush taught me some kind of dance figure (discofox) so our hands touched, wow so intense, she has very soft hands.

At some point, again, truth or dare, but it was just crush, me and one of the friends (the one I got to kiss a year prior). I had to say whom I wanted to kiss if I had to and I was like "ehhh, I don't mind, really", but obviously, I was just too insecure to say my crush's name.

A and my crush both came to see my school's musical (obviously I was in it). When they talked to me afterwards A hugged me in a way that felt like she was trying to lift me up. Since she's smaller than me I was like "are you trying to lift me up?", said it in an ironic way. My crush then said let me try and yes. She did.

A also mentioned that my crush first thought about getting flowers for me but since they had to drive for a while she didn't and I,,, did crush really think about that???

Time went by.

Crush and I only communicate via snapchat.

When I was on holiday she texted me something like "we should meet again when you're back, I miss you" and I, slight gay panic, responded probably "same" and something saying that we should meet!

And we did. We met a couple of times so I'm not really sure what happened when and first or whatever. But I think it was the first meeting (or date???) When we went to a nice roof top bar (it was summer. Summer of 2019) and again, she said she'd pay. So we sat there for a while, talking about... anything, gay things.. casually.

Later we got food (pizza. Pineapple pizza, we both love it and if that's not a sign....) and after being too awkward to ask for the bill we somehow managed to get it and the waitress placed it in the middle of the table. Why am I mentioning that?

So. Before that happened my crush said that with same sex couples it's a "thing" that whoever gets handed the bill is the top. At least in the eyes of the person handing you the bill.

Let's just say that I really have no top energy and the waitress only put it in the middle bc I already had my wallet out.

Btw. I paid. I said we'd pay together and that I'd pay. Most top energy I've ever had in my life.

Later on we were just sitting at the riverside, talking. Eventually it started to rain and we ran somewhere to not get that wet. Yeah. Funny. It really was funny.

About a week later (I got a cold bc we sat in the rain. wow), when we were snapping, she mentioned that she finally found some friends to go swimming in a lake with (it was a really warm summer week) and I was like "oh, lucky you, I don't have anyone to do that". Guess what she did? She invited me to come as well. A and some of the other friends I know were coming, so that was fine for me. Of course my dumb ass lesbian self said yes and the next day I spent two hours on a train to get there.

That was a Wednesday. On Thursday I'd have my very last oral exam in school (graduating is fun n stuff). Why's that important? Well, I made some more poor decisions that day.

When we were like.. done with swimming the plan was to drive to my crush's place to have some kind of bbq. A and I wanted to go to A's place first to shower. On the way we figured out it would be more convenient for me to head directly home because of my exam the next day and how the trains run. I texted my crush what was going on and she was like "you could sleep over at my place and go home tomorrow morning" (my exam was around 2 or so). Of course I said yes. She then asked me if I wanted to drink something specific (there is this certain brand of sparkling wine she knows i love and got it for me).

So we then spend the evening sitting in my crush's garden. I had the whole bottle of sparkling wine for myself since I was the only one liking it/not having to drive. My crush had beer, so that's fine. After all the other friends left we we're just sitting alone, outside, in the warm summer night, talking, sitting in silence (not that awkward kind). At some point she suggested to star gaze when it got dark enough. So guess what? We were lying in the grass next to each other, looking at the night sky and making up names for random star constellations. When it got cold she got us some of her jackets.

Eventually I was slightly drunk since I didn't eat much and drank the whole bottle and I maybe ended up asking her how obvious me having the crush was. Well. Let's just say that my subtweets aren't as sub as I am.

Yeah, so that was the last thing we talked about before sleeping (ofc i had to borrow some of her clothes). Awkward? Maybe. But not really, since nothing changed between us. She knew.

I think the next time we met was when we went to get new piercings together. Chaotic energy, very spontaneously. It was fun, I don't regret anything. I can't remember anything worth mentioning that happened.

So since I graduated this year my live obviously needs to go on. I'm doing a gap year, as an aupair. So I did some kind of "good bye party" with my closest friends before I left.

My crush was invited as well. So, first, she brought me a bottle of my favourite sparkling wine. Then, (I was really stressed) she told me to breath, calm down, or sit down and if I remembered it right she did make gestures that I should sit on her lap? Anyways, I didn't, I had to do something else.

At some point that day we were all sitting on the sofa, me next to my crush. She said something like "my arm hurts" and placed it around my shoulders and then said "oh look how smooth that was". Yeah, I died.

She helped me doing the dishes at like 3am and we talked about random things.. maybe some more "private" things.

A few days later she explained to me how she felt (Text. Not in person, do we look like we aren't socially awkward?). She told me that she really wanted to give me a clear answer but she really can't say if she has romantic feelings for me or not. Like she can't say yes but she also can't say no.

Unrelated to that thing I texted her and asked if I had a chance (I was prepared to get a clear no, so I could stop crushing, you know) but she told me that I do have a chance. Why are lesbians so bad in those things.

Yeah, then, I went abroad. We still snapped pics to each other. She told me (multiple times?) she'd come and visit me if she had enough money.

She on day told me that she had been to a nice veggie restaurant and said that we should go there one day (I'm vegetarian).

When I was sure that I'd come home for christmas I told her and we planned to meet. The idea was there but to actual plan what we wanted to do.

In the meantime we started to do almost daily "good night" snaps and suddenly she started to include a heart in her good night message to me. Eventually I did so too and now we almost every day send each other a picture saying goodnight with a drawn heart on it. You wouldn't do that if you knew the other person has a crush on you and you wouldn't want them to have this crush, would you?

And also she really isn't a person to use much emoticons, certainly not hearts.

So now the plan is that I come over to her place on new years eve (which is tomorrow.)

She said she'd look forward to it and I am literally dying of gay panic and excitement.

Additionally, you know those things on Twitter "@ the xth person, it's your whatever" yeah. People did that with "@ the 6th person is your new years kiss" guess who that person is for me? Literally my crush's Twitter. Eventually I did post it with a "lol" (ironically.) and she responded to it with this smirking emoji. You know which one. 😏. That one.

Yeah, that's pretty much the story. I am a gay mess. If she finds this, I'm dead. Well. Anyways, I'll have another 6-8months abroad when I go back so what could go wrong. Haha. Ha.

I'm way too lazy to check for typos and I might have not included every single detail, but you get the broad idea.

Thank you for your attention, I'm out (what a pun).

TL;DR: lesbians being the useless lesbian cliche, I still don't know if i had a chance

[looselucy]

Scars

April 5th “This is fucking weird.” Lin said, his shoulder brushing mine, the two of us stood behind the counter in my shop watching Louis and Libby, admiring the way they were together. “Innit?” I cried, still trying to wrap my head around the way they were together; how Louis had his arm wrapped around her waist, how she sunk into his side like she’d never been anywhere else, the two of them looking right back at us. “I love it, but… I dunno, I just can’t get used to it!”

“It’s only been a week!” Libby was giggling, ridiculously bashful, trying to excuse why we were finding their closeness so bizarre. “I dunno if I’ll ever get used to it.” Lin shrugged. “I’m literally just staring at you being all cute, and it’s blowing my little mind. You two are actually like, in love. What the fuck?” “I love it.” I announced. “But it is weird. It seems so right but then also it’s like… It’s weird.” Louis just held her tighter, squeezing her and kissing her cheek, the two of them actually thriving off all the teasing we’d done over the past week since they’d publicly broken the news. I was thriving too, to be honest. As truly odd as it was to see them suddenly acting so tenderly and lovingly with one another, I was loving every second of it. They were so bloody besotted and obsessed with each other, it was lovely to see. If not slightly strange. “You both happy?” Lin asked, already knowing full well they were. “Very.” Libby answered. Me and Lin turned our heads to face one another, shoulders shrugged, eyes squinted and silly smiles. It had been so wildly entertaining seeing them all react when Louis and Libby had sat them all down to tell them that they were in love with each other. Chloe had immediately burst out laughing, convinced they were joking, whereas Lin had looked at Niall completely deadpan and said: “I owe you a tenner.” As predicted, they had been met with nothing but enthusiasm and support from us, which they knew and that was why they’d both been so eager to share what had been happening between them in the first place. I hadn’t heard much about when Louis had actually told her he loved her, but clearly she’d responded well. They were adorable. “So, Friday night. What’re our plans?” Lin asked the three of us. “We wanted a night in.” Libby answered. “Of course you do.” He sniggered suggestively. “Alright Alfie, me and thee. Wanna do summat?” “I think Niall said he fancies going to the pub.” “Us? In the pub? Shocking. I never saw that one coming.” “Well there’s fuck all else to do. Also, you can’t beat being in the pub. And since the weathers getting so much better, all I wanna do with my life is sit in the beer garden at The Tin Mouse. It’s literally all I wanna do, it’s a problem.” It was a gorgeous pub all year round, but there was something extra special about it during the few months of the year where the sun managed to shine fully and actually give us some warmth. The beer garden around the back was my favourite place to be when the weather was like that, overlooking the rolling fields, a complete suntrap. I was so ready for those summer months. The bell rang, Niall letting himself into the shop. “Speak of the devil.” Louis grinned. “What’re you saying about me, you bunch of bitches?” “Afternoon, Niall.” I giggled. “Are we going to the pub? I’m ready, c’mon, this sun won’t last. Let’s get this shop closed and let’s get pissed.” “Where’s Chloe?” I enquired. “She’s doing something with her family, so it’ll be us lot-” “Actually,” Louis raised a hand. “We’re having a night in.” “Fucking each other’s brains out, I imagine. Well good for fucking you.” He huffed, making me and Lin laugh. “Alright, so it’s us three and maybe Harry.” “Harry?” My face dropped. My heart stopped. “Yeah, he’s back. I saw him yesterday.” My head started pounding within a split second of hearing that Harry was back in Rosebury, and once again I was having to try and veil my real emotions, trying not to let on how I was truly feeling. I was getting so tired of doing that. But Harry hadn’t told me he was back. He hadn’t even mentioned that he would be back, that I should be expecting him. I hadn’t heard from him for the past few days, so I’d predicted he still had things to do in New York, that his work wasn’t quite done. I couldn’t believe he’d come back and not even told me, when all he’d done for over a month was tell me how much he was missing me, how much he wanted to come back, how much he wanted to see me. That was literally all he’d said, so I couldn’t make sense of him actually being back but not even thinking to tell me, not having the decency. I thought about the first time he’d left back in November, and how he’d turned up at my door as soon as he was home, how I was his first thought, his first port of call, and that was back when things weren’t even serious between us. I was slowly starting to lose my nerve, moving from being upset to irritated. I was understanding of Harry’s character and the complexities of him, how he worked, and I’d known as soon as things had gotten serious between us that it wouldn’t be like any relationship I had known before. Harry was too different, in who he was and how he dealt with things. I knew all of that, but I also needed to accept that is was okay for me to have wants and needs when it came to the two of us being together and building a healthy relationship. I was allowed to affected by the way he was sometimes, because it was our relationship, not just his. I was allowed to want to know simple fucking things such as him being back in town. “Did you talk to him?” My voice was glum, eyes fixed on the counter. “No, I didn’t get the chance. I just saw him as he was about to walk down the road to his house.” I almost laughed I was that wound up, but I suppose being angry was so much easier than facing up to the way I was hurting, for Harry and myself. Because sitting right beside my frustration was this sinking realisation about how unaccustomed to being close with someone Harry was, and the way that had shaped him, even in manners I hadn’t quite comprehended before. He was so caring, so used to consuming the pain of others that he failed to see that his pain was my pain to a certain degree, his troubles troubled me. Since he was a young boy, his issues and how he felt had never been the focus, it had always been in the shadows of someone else’s sorrow. His problem with shining a spotlight on his own feelings didn’t merely come from that genuine struggle he had to talk about himself, but because he’d never had the chance to be the centre of someone’s compassion. It seemed to me that he was failing to see that how closely we were involved meant I wanted him to be as strong and happy as possible, in the same way he wanted that for those he cared about. But it was hard to concentrate on that desire of mine in those moments. “Let’s not invite him.” I huffed, standing upright and swinging my bag over my shoulder, ready to leave and knock back a pint. “Why?” “Y’know what he’s like.” I rolled my eyes. “When he wants us to know he’s back, he’ll tell us or he’ll show his face. Besides, we need to figure how the fuck we want to handle us knowing about his art, because we all know how private he is.” “Fair point, actually.” Niall agreed. “Shit, I didn’t think about that.” “Neither did I.” Lin winced. “I don’t wanna break his trust or anything.” “It might be too late for that.” I admitted. “Let’s go figure it out over a beer.” I didn’t want to lie to Harry about the fact we knew, because I felt that was the only way things could get worse, it was the only way I could feel worse about it all. I was going to tell him, be upfront and truthful, and I’d have to accept the repercussions, whatever they were. There was a high possibility his trust would be broken, and that terrified me. He’d come so far and I really didn’t want to send him spiralling back to square one. I didn’t even know if he’d believe what had happened, or if he’d blame me and predict I’d lost my patience with him. I didn’t know how I was feeling, I didn’t know what was going to happen, the only thing I was totally confident about was how I needed to be honest with him. Whatever the outcome, I’d have to deal with it.

A miscellany of emotions waded through me as I advanced towards Harry’s home, nauseous over the thought of seeing him, talking to him, finding out how recent changes and revelations would alter us now he was home. My approach was as sluggish as the setting sun, seeing a light in his living room flicker on as I neared, proving he really was home. I suppose there had been a part of me that had been hoping Niall had made a mistake, spotting someone who looked like Harry and predicting it was him. But he really was home. I measured my pace, convincing myself that walking slowly would give me the time to prepare, so at least then I could knock on his door with some sort of idea as to what I wanted to say, but I knew even if I managed to rehearse even a sentence it would fall flat as soon as I saw him. My emotions were going to carry me through the following conversation, but the scariest part was that I still didn’t know which emotion would be the loudest. Both my head and heart were completely chaotic, intolerable and impossible to predict. I felt physically sick by the time I reached his door, knocking before my gut disappeared and I ran away from a situation that definitely needed facing. I bit my lip, closing my eyes as soon as I heard footsteps, head down but eyes up as he swung the door open. He looked stunned. “Fee.” His voice was quiet, breathy. It seemed to me that not only was he not expecting me to turn up at his door, but nor had he wanted me to. I would have loved him to just drag me inside, kiss me, making me forget all the reasons I was frustrated and sad. But he didn’t. He just stood there. “Why didn’t you tell me you were back?” I grumbled. His breath seemed to catch in his throat, looking like he didn’t have a clue how to respond to that, like I’d just asked him something complicated, expecting an intricate answer. “I… I-I dunno.” “It’s fucked with my head, Harry. All I’ve heard from you for over a month is how much you’ve missed me. That’s the only fucking contact you gave me. That’s all I got. And now you’re back and you don’t even think to tell me? If you needed time alone, just say that!” “Alfie, just come inside-” He tried to pull me inwards, grasping his fingers at my top for a few seconds. “But you can’t just say nothing! It’s not fair on me. It’s not fair that I always feel like I’m trying to figure you out. Trying to figure us out. I wanna know where I stand! I deserve to know where I stand.” “Please come inside, Fee-Fee.” He begged, letting go of me so his fingers could anxiously grasp at his long sleeves. “Please.” I stepped inside, because he hadn’t needed to beg that way. I’d gone there with the intention of talking things through as much as possible, I had never wanted to just say whatever came to mind and then leave. I wanted to talk it out. I wanted to prove to him that I cared about his feelings, prove how important they were, how important I felt we were. He exhaled, quickly closing the door as though he thought I may run back out at any moment. “I’m sorry. I didn’t… I didn’t think. I wanted some time.” “Time to what?” “I’ve hated being away, and I have missed you, I just… I wanted a bit of time to gather myself before seeing you. I should’ve said, I should’ve told you, m’sorry. I dunno why I didn’t.” I took my coat off, hanging it beside the door, his eyes still locked on me. I didn’t know how to respond to him. I didn’t want to explain it away, blame it on the fact Harry wasn’t really accustom to being with someone because I genuinely thought it would be not only common sense, but that it might even be in his instinct. I turned to face him again, body shaking as he took a step closer. “I’m sorry. This is where you stand. Here, with me.” He gripped at my top again, gently pulling me closer. “I wanna do better than this, and I don’t wanna upset you. My heads been such a mess, but it’s nothing to do with you. I promise.” I found myself with my back against the wall, Harry leaning to press his forehead against mine, his eyes dancing over my face. My body eased. My guard fell. “I missed you.” I whispered. “I missed you so fucking much.” He ached. “I’m sorry.” “Next time, please talk to me more. It made it so much harder, how quiet you were, I hated it. I fucking hated it, I missed you, I…” I tried to reach down, take his hands within mine, but he rapidly pulled away, shooting his hands back so that I couldn’t touch them. He cursed as I looked down, saw the bandages he had wrapped around both hands. My nostrils were flaring sporadically, throat hurting, lip trembling. Even though he knew I’d seen, he still put his hands behind his back, eyes going down to the floor. “Harry-” “C’mon. Let’s go make a brew.” He tried to brush it off, rolling his shoulders before walking away from me, through the doorway into his living room before I spoke. “Harry, I know.” His footsteps ceased, silence an unfriendly visitor in his home as he thought over my words. I stayed still, closing my eyes when I heard him walking again, noticed the sound was heading towards me rather than distancing. He came and stood himself right ahead of me once more. “You know what?” “That you paint.” I confessed, but I didn’t feel much better for it, lifting my head so I could see how he reacted. “I know about your art.” He went quiet again, and I could almost hear the heavy beating of his heart, his brows low, stunned once again. I was dreading his reaction, so fearful that he’d be irate and lose his temper before anything else, that we’d make a mess of a situation that already felt like it was in tatters. “How long have you known?” He asked me, sounding calmer than I’d expected. “A few weeks. I found out whilst you were away, and not by choice.” “What?” “I didn’t go snooping. They… They googled you at the pub, they already knew by the time I got there. I wouldn’t do that.” “I didn’t say you would.” I was caught off guard by his soft tone, how he edged himself closer to me when I’d been so ready for him to detach completely. I don’t know why I had predicted the worst, maybe it was merely a reflection of how low I’d been feeling since he’d left. Maybe it was natural for me to think things would fall apart in front of me when I felt like I’d been able to sense it crumbling ever since I’d awoken to him taking that call. He stepped closer still. “I trust you, Fee.” He was quiet, but there was a soothing confidence captive in his tone. “You should know that already.” “But… I dunno! I just didn’t wanna find out like that.” I let a few tears loose, staring right at him, relieved. “I thought I would lose your trust and I hated it because we’ve done so well building it and-” “Hey, it’s alright!” He sighed then hushed me, pulling me into his body and allowing me to weep against his chest. “Don’t cry, I can’t stand it, please don’t. It’s okay!” “It’s just been horrible because I didn’t want to find something like that out how I did and I didn’t want you to hate me but I dunno why you didn’t tell me if it’s something you love and-” “Alfie, breathe!” He kind of laughed, pulling himself back and gripping his hand at the back of my head, crouching a little so he could look at my face. “Listen to me and believe me. It’s okay!” There was absolutely nothing he was doing or saying that could even suggest I had any reason to doubt him. I was baffled, completely thrown by it, but he really seemed okay with all of it. I had gotten so wrapped up in the thought of things having to be on his terms and everything having to lean in the perfect direction, that I’d somehow managed to forget that I was not the only person present who was trying to make this relationship work. Neither of us were seeking an argument, we didn’t want to be bitter, we wanted to be happy and understand each other. He was making that clearer then than he ever had before. “I wanna show you something.” He whispered a little nervously. “Take… Take my hand.” He let go of the back of my head and held his hand out for me, letting me get a real look at the bandages that he’d wrapped tightly around his palm. He didn’t seem entirely comfortable with it, but he did it regardless. I placed my hand in his, wishing I could feel his skin and truly relish his touch, but the slight feel of his fingertips would have to suffice. He led us through his living room towards the kitchen, and I knew. I knew where we were heading and I was confident in what would be there, even though for months I’d been completely clueless. I knew. We headed straight towards the red curtains, and I might’ve stopped breathing for a few seconds when his free hand reached towards the heavy fabric, pulling it back. I definitely stopped breathing then. It was an extension built at the back of his home, made entirely of glass windows that sat between and looked out into the open woodland that surrounded his house in the most striking, magnificent way. The trees directly in front of us were common but sparse, leaving room for a small mossy pond filled with life, the setting sun pummelling through the branches of the tall trees around us. It was breathtakingly beautiful. And in the room, right ahead of us, was an easel with a blank canvas placed upon it. But it wasn’t the only work he had in there; there were paintings all over the place, leaning up against the windows, all nestled together and propped against one another, some unfinished some seemingly complete. There were palettes on the floor, tubes of paint laying unorganised all over the place, the room wholly unruly but somewhat pleasing in its cluttered complexion. After standing in astonished silence for some time, I turned to him, noticed the contemplative look upon his face. “Why didn’t you tell me?” “For a long time… this-” He gestured at his work. “-is all I’ve been. It’s all people care about. People treat me like I’m this… paradox rather than a person, like they need to pick me apart rather than just… get to know me.” I couldn’t quite begin to fathom just how many facets of his existence had caused Harry to be the type of person he was, how it had all contributed to his struggle to open himself up. It seemed everything had been against him until he moved to Rosebury. He let go of my hand and stepped properly into the room, so I followed, watching him as he glanced around at his pieces. “The people that’ve been in my life for the past few years, the way they talk and the discussions… it’s all been so fucking false. I’m… I’m grateful to have done so well, but there’s this huge negative to it with how isolated and fake it is, and I’ve always hated it. Not only that, but... My art… It-it doesn’t always make me feel good. I don’t want it to always be the focus because a lot of the time…” He stopped talking when his throat snagged, dipping his head and attempting to discipline his overpowering emotions so that they didn’t flood him. He was running his hand through his hair as I moved myself closer to him, my body almost touching his, my hand floating upwards so I could stroke over his cheek. “All the people I’ve been forced to meet for years have all been because of… It’s all revolved around this job, my art. It’s never been friends, it’s always been fucking work. Moving here felt different. It was separate to all of that and I finally felt like I’d found something genuine.” “I’m sorry if you feel like we’ve taken that from you.” I juddered uneasily. “I don’t. I guess I expected someone to know anyway, but then none of you did and I just wanted to make the most of that for a while. I wanted to make different connections, and I did.” He managed a smile, feeble but gorgeous. “I’d have loved it if you’d found out from me, and I’m sorry for not telling you but… I find it hard to talk about.” I nodded, trembling as I reached to take my hand in his once again, gently stroke my thumb over the top of the bandages where I knew his cuts would be. It was so clear that the art he produced did not come from a positive place, which made it different to just being any old job, of course it was harder to discuss. It all made perfect sense to me suddenly, why this hadn’t been something he felt happy to share; art may have been a passion of his, but sometimes passions are poison. “When I moved here… I stopped painting.” He told me. “I didn’t wanna create anything new because… it doesn’t make me happy. I wanted this fresh start, I wanted to kinda… put it behind me. There’s this part of me that misses it but then I can’t… I can’t keep doing this to myself because it makes me so fucking miserable.” I wanted to grip his hand tighter, but I daren’t. Instead I just raised it, placing it between our bodies to capture both of our gazes, the two of us with tears in our eyes. “You painted again, didn’t you?” My voice was frail. “You cut again.” “It’s what I do, Alfie. It’s my job, it’s my work. I wanna stop, but it’s not that easy! It’s not as simple as that. And my agent-” “I don’t give a fuck about your agent.” Any frailness was swiftly abolished, letting my free hand clasp at the side of his neck. “I don’t give a fuck about anything other than you!” “I know.” He let out a sob. “All I care about is your happiness and you need to make that your priority. Fuck everything else, put yourself first!” I wept, trying to be firm with him. “You can’t keep cutting yourself like that.” “I don’t want to.” He bawled. “Then don’t! Please, fuck,” My whole body ached for him. “Please stop, you have to stop.” I pushed up on my tiptoes for a second to finally thrust my lips back against his, coaxing him closer to me. His hands drew to my waist, lowering his head so we could kiss properly, cheeks damp but so obsessed with the feeling we gained that for a while, nothing mattered but that kiss, the longing we shared. His touch was taut against my waist, yanking my body even closer to his as I slung my arms to droop around his neck. Somehow my heart felt as though it was healing and shattering at the same time. Lost, we stumbled, only stopping when my heels hit a canvas, clutching onto him in every way my hands physically could, short of breath and forcing ourselves to still. We remained close as I stroked through his hair, trying to stop crying but my emotions were totally overbearing. I was thankful to learn he hadn’t painted since moving to Rosebury, before New York, and I suppose I should have known that because I’d never seen him with fresh cuts or bandages on his hands before, but I’d been thinking and expecting the worst. “Why do you do that?” I was quiet. “Why do you cut yourself like that?” “It’s just… how my work is. It’s… how I feel when I paint. I think that’s why I wanna stop, that’s why I don’t… I don’t do it anymore, really.” “Why did you do it again?” “My agent who helps me sell my art thinks… if I do new stuff, maybe it’ll distract people from a painting I don’t wanna sell.” “Which painting is it?” “Blood Sun.” He answered, my stomach dropping even hearing the word blood. “Why… Why don’t you wanna sell it?” He dropped his head again, like he was picturing the image in his mind, eyes hazy and lips pert with the promise of words unspoken. I’d never been as hypnotised by him. “It took me years to finish it. I started painting it ten years after… After my dad died.” He was physically shaking. “And it took me three years to finish it. And I guess… I guess by the time it was done, it was like I couldn’t even stand looking at it.” I wondered just how much blood had gone into the piece. Three years of cutting himself. Three years of blood placed upon a canvas in some attempt to define the agony and the hurt he’d been feeling for what was now over ten years. “I put it in my gallery, but every time someone makes an offer… It’s like… I can’t stomach the thought of someone else having it. I fucking hate it because it makes me so unhappy but then I feel like I can see him in it and it’s the only piece of my family I have left and…” I despised how much loss Harry had experienced in his life. The death of his father had continued to tear so many good things away from him, from his loved ones to this basic happiness that he deserved more than anyone I knew. The only sense of his father he had left was all trapped in one painting, so painful he wanted to reject it and so meaningful he couldn’t stand the thought of someone taking it from him. “It’s fucking stupid-” “It’s not.” I shook my head. “It’s not stupid at all, Harry. Don’t convince yourself that it is. How you feel… it’s justified. And fuck anyone who makes you feel otherwise.” He lowered his head to kiss me again, composed and yet fierce, passionately clinging onto me for a few moments before he detached, almost woozy over how open he’d been. Soon after the kiss had stopped, he moved, sighing and sitting himself down on the ground, resting his back against some of the canvases that were propped against a window. I sat myself down next to him, drained and heartbroken and yet somehow happier than I had been when I’d first arrived. For a while, we sat in silence, gazing around at his work. I was glad that he wasn’t painting, or at least glad he wasn’t cutting. Even in his very first few weeks in our village, I had known how good the move had been for him, how he’d made the right choice and how he had set his life on a better track. I hadn’t been quite so aware just how many wonders it had worked. “Don’t sell it.” I mumbled, looking down to the floor. “Take it off the market completely.” “You think?” “Mm. You’re obviously not ready to part with it, and… maybe one day you will be, and then when that happens… you can sell it on your terms, in a way that won’t make you unhappy. And if that day never comes then… maybe it shows you love it more than you realise.” He nodded, and though I’d never be able to fully understand the intricacy of his feelings when it came to that certain painting, he seemed to agree that at that time, it was best to keep it for himself. There were still wounds that needed to heal before he could say goodbye to it. As injurious as it may have seemed to Harry, that piece was still priceless to him. “What was he called? Your dad, I mean.” I queried. “I never asked his name.” “William. But everyone called him Billy.” A smile formed subconsciously. “That’s why it’s my middle name.” “Billy?” “Yeah.” “I can’t believe I didn’t already know that.” “I’d lived here months before you even asked what my last name was.” He tittered, the two of us giggling for only a few seconds before he reached and took my hand, our fingers lacing together. “M’sorry, for disappearing like I did.” “Why didn’t you talk to me?” “I didn’t wanna lie to you. I thought it’d just be a week or two but then… I opened the gallery where my work is, sold some pieces, painted again. I wanted to say as little as possible because... I wasn’t ready to tell you about all of this. And I don’t wanna lie.” Only Harry could give me an explanation to something that had been so frustrating for me and then end up making me blush. “But why didn’t you say you were home? I... I thought you’d wanna see me.” “Fee-Fee, I’ve been fucking dying to see you, but I… I wanted to wait until my cuts had healed more.” He swallowed. “I didn’t want you to see.” I looked down to our hands, noticing a few scant specks of blood that had seeped through his bandaging, tears budging back into my eyes. He could have hidden himself away for weeks waiting for those fresh cuts to heal, and that would have been for both of our benefit, really. He knew I would have worried, asked questions, fretted over every single scar, old and new. He hadn’t wanted either of us to experience that. “I want you to know… that you don’t need to hide anything from me, Harry.” I turned my head to him. “No more secrets.” “No more secrets.” He squeezed my hand. “Just me and you.” “Just me and you.” I cooed, voice low. With a smile, he charmed me closer to him, sweetly pulling my hand his way to heave my entire body over to his. I twisted, lifted my leg and straddled his waist, hitching closer to him, my insides oozing with the way he looked up to me, broken light fluctuating through his tired eyes, downright dazzling. Lightly, I placed my lips against his, my hands running through his thick hair as his landed back on my waist. We were slow, his mouth widening with mine, tongue tenderly moving with my own. For some time, the connection I’d had with him had been a delicate one, where our touches were caring and smooth, but I had never known us to be quite so affectionate with each other. I had never known my body to react to his in such a stunningly colossal way. Something was happening that I couldn’t quite describe, the two of turning yet another corner in our relationship. I had headed to his home expecting things to fall apart and ended up feeling as though really, we’d never been stronger. Being with him then, feeling his hand reach to cover my jaw, his breathless bleats of pleasure moving from his mouth to mine, it summoned a restless sensation of nameless pleasures I had never known the likes of. We were so far from perfect, but there was a beauty in what we were, however flawed. And I didn’t want anything other than him, and the exquisite connection that existed between us.

[lavenderbones22]

Birthday Surprise - Ben Hardy

Summary: It's Ben's girlfriend's birthday and he can't wait to give her a special present.

Requested: 'Idk if you do kink smuts or stuff like that, but can you do an imagine where it's your birthday and after your party at the club ben says that he has his last surprise and he gets so kinky like "call me daddy" and he tie you up and puts like ice cream or something like that on your body while you're blindfolded?'

Word Count: 3640 

A/N This is what I imagine Ben wearing in this. Let’s pretend this is him with you behind him walking outside of the club. hehe. gif credit to @benhardyispretty loving your page hun! x

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I couldn't feel my feet in the sky high heels I was wearing. They were very high but they were even more expensive.

Christian Louboutin.

Ben had got them for me for my birthday and I nearly screamed loud enough to burst his ear drums when he handed me the bag this morning.

"I was going to wrap them but I thought it looked so much better in the bag than any shitty wrapping I would do," he laughed nervously.

I'd proceeded to bowl him over to the ground when I pulled the red bottom's out of their box. They were the most perfect shoes I'd wanted for ages now.

"You'll get the rest later tonight," he said with a cheeky grin.

I smiled to myself at the memory from this morning as I made my way through the club. My boyfriend was the greatest. Speaking of which, where the heck was he? I took a sip of my amaretto sour and looked around the packed venue. It was my absolute favourite drink that I insisted on drinking throughout all of tonight. Except for tequila shots, yep, amaretto sour cocktails and tequila shots were my jam for tonight.

"Seen Ben?" I snaked my arm around Rami's waist. He was standing in line at the bar and the only one from our group of friends I could find.

Since Ben had been filming Bohemian Rhapsody he had become really good friends with all of his cast mates which in turn meant I became good friends with them all also. They had wrapped filming a week ago and as well as it being a celebration of my birth, they considered tonight a celebration of all their hard work too.

I never liked to share my birthday celebrations but I supposed this was a good enough reason.

"Last I saw he was heading that way with Gwil," Rami pointed to our left out where the beer garden was. I thanked him with a kiss on the cheek and sauntered off in search of Ben.

When I found him he was skulling a pint of beer, along with Joe. They had Gwil, Lucy and a few of our other friends cheering them on.

"What the hell," I mumbled to myself, laughing at the sight in front of me. Ben slammed his pint down before Joe, standing up with his hands in the air and yelling out that Joe owed him fifty pound. People were looking at them, some laughing, others shaking their heads. Joe was immediately at it with the excuses. 'Ben got a head start' and 'I don't measure my manhood by the time it takes for me to skull a beer.'

I was giggling while I tried to light my cigarette and walk up to the table they were seated at, my boyfriend's eyes spotting me and lighting up.

"There's my birthday girl!"

He was still yelling loudly.

Okay, he was wasted.

"Here I am!" I took a puff of my fag, blowing out the smoke before Ben pulled me to him and pressed his lips onto mine.

"Love you," he spoke against my lips.

"Love you more."

He sat back down and pulled me onto his lap where we shared my cigarette. His hand was wrapped around my lower back, softly stroking the top of my bare thigh. Along with my shoes being new, my dress was too. A short, silver silk dress with slits up the side that Ben couldn't get enough of.

"I cannot wait to get you out of this later," he spoke thickly against my ear, nibbling at my earlobe right after. It sent shivers down my spine and I couldn't help but moan. I knew Ben nearly better than I knew myself which meant that I was pretty sure he had some things up his sleeve to keep our night going once we got home.

My arm was wrapped around his neck, moving up occasionally to run through his hair and along his recently shaved sides. I loved his new hairstyle. It made me so hot for him.

I leaned down and kissed his sharp jawline.

"Calm down horn dogs!" Joe's thick American accent pulled me away from my lover, his displeased face making me giggle. "Don't need to see you two making babies. I'm drunk, but not drunk enough to forget that!"

"Oh shush it mate, you're just jealous!" Ben spat jokingly.

"Yes! Yes Ben I am and I certainly don't appreciate your girlfriend here waving you in front of my face like she's been doing all night!"

Joe looked at me. "And don't you think I haven't noticed missy!" His face was as straight as an arrow and as much as I was trying to play along and act serious, I just couldn't, he was too funny. I broke out into laughter. This was why they were actors and I was not.

"See and now she's laughing at my misfortune. Poor form my dear," he shook his head, eventually looking up and blowing me a kiss.

"How 'bout we go dance!?" Lucy suggested, standing up and holding her hand out for me. I took her invitation and looked back at Ben who audibly groaned when I left his lap.

"Coming?" I asked him.

He smirked. "Yep. Just about."

I rolled my eyes, choosing to ignore his innuendo and followed Lucy back into the club and onto the middle of the dance floor.

The music was blaring through the relatively small place. It was past midnight now and everybody in the venue was absolutely wrecked. Myself included. Lucy and I had been dancing for a few songs now and I half expected Ben to have found me already but he hadn't.

Lucy's hazy eyes smiled at me as she twirled me around. A completely inappropriate dance move for the ASAP Rocky song that was playing but we were too drunk and having too much fun to care.

"I need those hips grinding up against me right now," Ben's deep voice radiated through me, even with the consuming sounds of the music around us. It was always that way whenever he was nearby. Whether it be his voice, his footsteps or the way that he smelled, I was always hyper sensitive to him.

"Well you were no where to be found," I retorted, turning around in his arms that were wrapped around my neck.

"I'm here now," he smirked, cupping my chin and pulling my lips to his. He tasted like beer and cigarettes, my mouth becoming the same as our tongues intertwined. My hands on his waist gripped tight at the brown leather jacket he was wearing. God, I needed him to fuck me so bad. "I have one last birthday surprise for you when we get home."

I groaned, knowing without a doubt that the surprise he was insinuating would be sexual. I let my head fall against his muscular chest.

"When is an appropriate time to leave my own birthday party?" I spoke titillatingly against his plump lips, shaded a deeper pink from clashing with mine. Also, probably my lipstick.

"Your birthday, your rules baby," he responded casually. "But can I suggest we make it soon, I'm already hard as hell."

I accidentally moaned out loud at the thought of his hard cock right there only separated by his jeans and my dress. Pulling him closer, I pushed myself into him, easily feeling just how hard he was.

"Alright, lets go." I couldn't take it anymore. So grabbing Ben's hand I said goodbye to Lucy and Rami who were dancing right next to us and went out back to say goodbye to the rest of our group. Other than the final 'happy birthday's' being thrown my way and the 'see you later's', we were barraged by the knowing looks of just why it was that we were leaving so soon. 1am was relatively early I supposed although I considered it a decent time to leave.

"They all knew we were going home to fuck," Ben laughed as we headed out of the club and into the cold air of London. "And I'm definitely not ashamed of that fact!" He added.

"Neither am I! Besides, birthday sex is some of the best sex one can have!"

"Cheers to that babygirl!" He pulled me back into his warmth while we waited for our Uber. "But not now because I need to get you home, out of that dress and onto my cock as soon as humanly possible."

It took fifteen minutes from when we were stood on the footpath outside the club until I was lying wanting and naked on our bed.

"Hurry uppppp," I grumbled at Ben while he was rummaging through something in the wardrobe.

"Hold tight darlin', just getting some things!" His voice was teasing and like I had suspected, he was up to something.

Suddenly he appeared out of the wardrobe, his hands behind his back with some things obviously in them.

"So remember a few weeks ago we were watching that fifty shades movie..."

"Oh Ben..." I laughed nervously. "If you plan to hang me from chains or make me do some fucking weird shit I swear-"

"No babe," he interrupted me. "Nothing' like that I promise. Just a few things I thought we could have fun with."

He walked closer to me and I watched him very carefully. He was shirtless, his muscles making me drool in the dim light that we had illuminating the bedroom. "Close your eyes," he said.

I did as told, nervous butterflies raging in my stomach. It wasn't that I was actually nervous or didn't trust Ben, it was more nervous anticipation; what was about to happen.

I felt him slip a blindfold over my eyes and tie it at the back. I giggled, this was fun already.

"You look so hot when you can't see anything," Ben commented. "I need you to sit up a little,"he helped me move and shuffled me further up the bed. I heard some fumbling of his pants, thankful they were finally coming off.  But instead of hearing them drop and feeling him hovering over the top of me, I felt leather being tied around my wrists.

Oh.

Yes.

"Put your arms above your head baby and lie back," his rough hands (that had become rougher recently due to playing the drums) bound my wrists with the leather belt and tied them to the headboard.

We'd tied each other up before so that was nothing new. The blindfold though, we'd never done that and in all honesty I couldn't believe we hadn't; it was thrilling. That paired with the bound wrists, I knew that I was in for a hell of a time.

"Get comfy my love, I'll be right back!" His voice was deeper, sexier, hungrier when I was lacking a sense and it only made me want him so much more. I heard his footsteps leave the room and walk down the hall. I was already feeling exhilarated and I wondered what else he had planned.

He returned moments later not saying a word and I could hear him begin to take the rest of his clothes off. All that sounded the room was the slight wind against the window and my heavy breaths of anticipation.

"You ready baby?" His voice made me jump, not expecting him to speak at that moment.

We both laughed.

"Yep, let's get this show on the road!"

Chuckling lowly, I heard his footsteps approach the bed. He stopped for a moment and it sounded like he had something else in his hands that he was fiddling with. "Ben?"

"Right here!" He assured me.

Seconds later I felt his side of the bed dip and I could sense him above my midsection.

"This might be cold," he warned me and before I had a chance to respond I heard the unmistakable sound of whipped cream coming out of the bottle.

I squeaked when I felt the cold sensation of what I guessed was the cream around my left nipple. I squirmed as best I could with my arms bound to the headboard, giggling continually as he went on and did the same to my other nipple.

"Fuck yeah," he practically moaned. I could imagine him leaning above me, pupils dilated fully with desire as he soaked me in with his eyes. "So fucking sexy."

"It's so cold!" I bit my lip feeling more turned on by the second as I got used to the feeling of the cold cream on my nipples. I could also feel myself becoming extremely wet.

"Hold on a second, I got an idea!" I felt Ben's weight leave the bed and heard him rummaging around the room once more. Not a minute later his weight was back on the bed but this time more towards the end, closer to where my feet were.

"Ben, what are you doing?"

"Taking a photo," he answered without missing a beat.

"Christ, really?"

"Yes really. I'll keep these for when I'm off next filming somewhere," I heard the click of the polaroid camera and the sound of the picture printing. "Besides, I have been meaning to update the wank bank and this is perfect baby!" He laughed.

"For fuck sake!" I kicked what I think was his thigh playfully and rolled my eyes underneath the blindfold. "You are disgusting."

"Not disgusting my love, just a horny guy who has an incredibly sexy girlfriend."

After a few more photos, Ben put the camera down (I assumed) and started spraying more cream onto my body. My belly button, both of my hipbones and the spot I was most excited about, my pussy.

"Fuck," I moaned when the coldness of the cream hit the warmth of my wetness. It was the most perfection juxtaposition of feelings.

After a few more photos (I sure as hell hoped nobody ever found them), Ben leaned down and kissed me passionately. It was the first point of the night where I wished I was able to put my arms around him. His lips moved from mine down to my neck, biting and sucking as he continued his journey. Goosebumps alined my body as his kisses became more heated. Licking along my collarbone demandingly and leaving soft kisses along the top of my breasts.

When his mouth wrapped around my nipple, I shivered. "Fuck," I moaned, tilting my head back further into the pillow. He closed his mouth around it entirely and sucked it clean. The feeling literally sent electric shocks throughout my entire body, collecting right in my pussy. It felt so fucking good.

He repeated the process on the other nipple while he massaged my other breast. "Do you like it," he whispered gruffly.

"I fucking love it," I murmured. Once again, I wanted more than anything to run my hands through his blonde locks while he ravished me like this. But he made sure that wasn't going to happen. Not tonight.

"I can tell you do," I knew he was smiling by the way he spoke. He kissed each of my nipples, both of them fully hard from the attention he had been giving them.

He then moved down to my belly button, licking down my sternum whilst on his way. I shivered again, more violently this time while he licked the cold, sugary cream out of my belly button and then each hipbone. His fingers dropped down to my crotch and he ran two through my wet centre. "You're so wet baby...so fuckin' wet...I love it."

I grinned widely and moaned. I was seriously loving every second of this and he hadn't even properly started.

He was up at my face again, fingers still moving about in my pussy, purposely avoiding my clit. Cheeky shit. "I've been thinking about this all day," he whispered against my lips, placing a soft kiss against them before advancing back.

He ran his lips down my neck, over my breasts and my belly before finally reaching his rightful place between my legs. "Spread them, baby," he mumbled, hands on the inside of each thigh as I moved them apart for him. He didn't even need to ask, don't know why he did. Oh right, I couldn't see.

Since I couldn't use my hands to run over his back, I used my feet instead. Moving them up over his shoulders and over his silky skin while he ran his tongue through my pussy. I pulled on the belt binding me and felt my legs jerk. I was already a huge fan of being eaten out but this, holy shit, this was on another level.

"Fuckkkkk," I practically screamed, Ben laid a hand on my belly to keep me in place while he ate me out like a starved man. "Ben," I moaned.

He looked up from where he was, finger replacing his tongue on my clit for a second. "Not tonight," he spoke seriously. I knew what he meant, we did this every so often.

"Sorry daddy," I apologised innocently. A smirk and a wink and he was back licking between my folds.

"Oh my god," I moaned loudly. "Fuck daddy, it feels so good," I cried. My wrists were starting to hurt in the bind because of all the pulling but it really did just heighten everything I was currently feeling.

"Feeling good?" He mumbled against me.

"Yes," I breathed, the vibration of his words creating yet another incredible feeling.

I heard him grab the can and spray more of the cream onto my clit, giggling as the coldness shocked me once more but that quickly turned into a moan when he licked and sucked it right off.

My toes were digging into his shoulders, arms pulling roughly against the belt holding them there, Ben was going at it a million miles an hour and I was about to cum. "Be-I mean daddy, fuck, I'm about to come!"

"Come on baby, come for daddy!" He coaxed me, now inserting two fingers into me and fucking me with them while he continued to beat away at my clit.

"Fuckkkkk," I moaned loudly. "Oh my god!" He removed his fingers and ran his hands up the back of my thighs, lifting me off the bed slightly and pushing me further into his mouth. The change in position triggered me and I came hard into his mouth. Lapping me up I started to giggle at the over sensitised feeling as I was coming back down from my high.

"Fuck me already daddy, I need you," I begged, licking my lips at what I knew was quite a sight in front of me. Ben... red faced, sweat beads glistening on his forehead and chest, out of breath with me all over his lips. He chuckled and climbed up my body, kissing me aggressively and I could taste myself on his tongue mixed with the sugary sweetness of the cream.

"You're being such a good girl for daddy I might take off your blindfold, let me see those pretty eyes," his words were husky, full of sex. I was so fucking turned on it was beyond right now.

I bit my bottom lip and nodded while Ben slipped the blindfold off and I nearly cried when I could finally see his beautiful face.

"I love you," he said sweetly, breaking the dominant character he was playing for the night.

"I love you," I repeated back to him softly.

With a last kiss to my lips, he pinned me down to the pillows, nudging my legs apart once more and directed himself into me.

We groaned loudly in sync. Relief after so much hype and anticipation all night; we were connected.

He leaned his forehead against mine when he'd pushed in all the way, easy with how wet I was and the remnants of the whipped cream. Our eyes were locked and he started to move. A groan, a struggle of my hands that were still bound; this felt too good. I knew I was going to come again pretty soon and I guessed Ben was in the same situation. He had one hand supporting himself right next to my shoulder and the other running up the side of my heated body while he rammed into me like there was no tomorrow.

"I'm gonna come again daddy," I warned him, wrapping my legs around his lower waist and resting my feet on his butt. He kissed me again as he kept thrusting, the squelch of where we connected only fuelling each of our desire.

"Do it, come for daddy," he encouraged me for the second time that night, his voice so strained and deep it kinda shocked me. Pushing into me a few more times I fell off the edge, groaning and writhing underneath Ben's weight, the muscles in my legs spasming and twitching as I fell back down to earth.

Ben kept fucking me through my orgasm relentlessly trying to reach his end. "Fuck," he groaned over and over as his thrusts became messier and less rhythmic. One thing I could credit the movie to was how his new found drum skills made him a better lover. The rhythm he could keep when he was fucking me these days was unlike anything I'd ever experienced. I always had at least two orgasms every time we fucked.

I moved my legs higher up his waist so he could go deeper, which he did and a few seconds later he slowed down, dropping his head against my chest as he came hard as hell into me. His breaths were ragged and he chuckled as he lifted his head and kissed me.

"Fuck, I love you," he smiled and placed his hand on my cheek as we made out for a few seconds.

"Love you daddy," I purred.

"I think we need to use sugar during sex more often," he mumbled, peppering my face with kisses. "Happy birthday princess."

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Enjoy my lovelies and make sure to let me know what you think! Also, inbox is still open so send through any suggestions of what you wanna read! xo

[fluffy-marshmallow-heart]

Drake's Diary ch.30 -Return To Cordonia

The Royal Romance from Drake's POV

Drake x MC (Emma Rose)

Words: 5370

Master List (Catch up here)

 This one is a bit dialogue heavy...sorry. Only a couple chapters left probably!

  The next morning, everyone is gathered around the breakfast table on the royal train.

“I’m glad we’re finally going back to Cordonia. New York was fun, but it’ll be nice to stop sleeping in hotels.” Emma said excitedly.

Olivia scoffed. “Not to mention on trains.”

“Yeah, it’s too bad we couldn’t fly straight home. You said there was some kind of security issue with the last leg of our flight, Liam?” Drake looks at his friend.

He nodded. “Probably nothing to worry about, but when the Royal Guard voices concerns, I find it best to listen to them. Taking the train was mostly a precaution. I promise we’ll all be home in Cordonia soon enough.”

While everyone else tucks into their food, Emma catches Drake’s eye across the table. As the train speeds toward Cordonia, he can hardly take his eyes off her.

    I can’t believe she’s mine. I am such a lucky bastard.

He sets his plate aside as everyone finishes their breakfast. Olivia is the only one not touching her food, and finally, she set her fork down hard with a clatter.

“If no one else is going to ask about the elephant in the room, then I will. Emma. Your reputation has been restored, and with Madeleine out of the picture…I assume Liam asked you to marry him.”

Liam’s mouth fell open. “Olivia, I…”

“Judging from that face and that neither of you have mentioned it, I also assume you said no.” She interrupted.

Emma kept her tone even. “Actually…you’re right. I said no.”

This time is was Olivia’s jaw that dropped. “You…Why would you…”

Liam held up a hand. “Olivia, please. This was a personal matter between Emma and me. She doesn’t need to explain her reasons to you, or to anyone.”

“I…I’m sorry, Liam.” She glances quickly at Drake, then just as quickly looks away. “My…apologies…Emma.”

Alright, well, I guess there’s no question about why she turned down his proposal anymore.

“It’s alright. But I’m afraid I must take my leave of you all. The press will be waiting when we arrive at the palace and I have a few notes to prepare.” Liam stood up quickly, giving a slight nod to the table, avoiding both Drake and Emma’s gaze.

“They’ll probably want to hear from Emma too, after what happened at the wedding shower.” Hana pointed out.

Oh yeah. Practically all of Cordonia wants her to be Queen. Guess they’re all in for a rude awakening. Not everyone wants a kingdom. She said it herself.

Emma nodded. “I’d better get ready.” She gives Drake a brief, warm smile before heading off, Hana and Maxwell trailing behind her.

Guess I better pack my bags. We’re almost home.

The train whistle blows as it pulls to a stop, and the entourage exits into a swarm of paparazzi. Cameras flash all around and there’s a motorcade waiting for the court.

Emma immediately puts on a dignified smile.

“An elegant entrance by Lady Emma and King Liam”

“Welcome back to Cordonia, your majesty. How does it feel to be home?”

Drake tunes out as he walks unnoticed to the motorcade, getting into a vehicle and sitting down. Don’t need to be where I’m not needed.

Several minutes later, the car door opened, revealing Bastien. “Drake, we’re heading to the palace now. Lady Emma and King Liam are scheduled for lunch with Constantine and Regina. They’ll be in a different vehicle.”

“Oh…” Drake knew he wasn’t hiding his disappointment that Emma wouldn’t be able to go anywhere with him, and that he’d have to grab lunch alone. Not a minute after he resigned himself to that fact, Maxwell, Hana, and Olivia joined him in the car.

“Drake! Buddy! Guess what I discovered??”

Drake sighed. “What’s that” What is he going to drag us to now?

“There’s a beer garden not too far from the palace! It’ll be so much fun, we have to go!” Maxwell told him excitedly.

Hmm. Guess I could drink some beer for a change.

“Only if Emma goes.” He blurts out.

Olivia snorts in amusement, rolling her eyes. “Oh yes, if Emma goes, Drake will certainly be there right beside her as usual.”

“Drake’s not the only one. Where Emma goes, I go” Maxwell chimed in, unaware of the sarcasm.

Hana nodded. “It will be fun, and you know Emma’s going to agree. It’s back to courtly protocol as soon as we stepped foot into Cordonia. The press even asked if she and Liam were engaged already.”

Oh shit. I hope that went decent enough.

“So where can we find her and Liam? Maybe Liam can go?” Maxwell thought, scratching his chin.

“They’re having lunch at the palace with the former King and Queen.” Drake informed.

Hana’s eyebrows furrowed. “Oh, she’s definitely going to need a break after that. They both will.”

Olivia sighed. “Fine, fine. Let’s go get them.”

As they rode to the palace, Drake’s phone began buzzing. Fishing it out of his pocket, he grinned at the screen.

“Hey, Savannah.”

“Drake! I have good news! Maxwell did an awful lot of talking, and…he convinced me to come back to court! I’ll be there soon, I just have to pack up!”

Drake’s breath hitched. “…What? You’re coming back here? Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Of course, I’m sure! Drake, I have missed you so incredibly much. I am beyond happy that you found me and were able to meet your nephew…being around you again made me realize…I still have a home in Cordonia. There are still people there I love. And, well, now that everyone knows Bertrand and I have a child together, there’s really no need to keep it a secret any longer.”

Slowly he felt his smile return to his face. “Sav, that…that sounds amazing! This really is great news! I’ll let Maxwell know he succeeded in his plan to get you back here.”

“And Emma. Emma did too.”

“What?”

“Emma! The way you two look at each other…you two are so in love and I need to make sure you don’t screw it up! I’m just so excited for you! You still have our grandma’s ring, right? You should definitely give it to her.”

“Sav!” Drake blushed furiously. “We’re not exactly there yet.”

“That’s because you’re a lovesick fool who can’t put two sentences together when it comes to this kind of thing. Don’t worry, I’ll help.”

“You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

“Are you saying you don’t want to marry her?”

“Of course, I do.” He muttered. He glanced around at his friends, the only one paying attention to him was Olivia. She rose an eyebrow ad he narrowed his eyes, glaring at her.

“I gotta go Savannah, we’re heading to a beer garden.”

“Okay, have fun!! I’ll be there soon, and don’t forget to keep that ring handy! You never know when the right moment may pop up.”

He blew out a breath and said his goodbye before telling everyone that Savannah is coming home.s

“Well, well, well. The prodigal daughter returns. I have to admit, I didn’t think she had the backbone.”

“Shut up, Olivia.” Honestly, why the fuck does she care? Anyone’s business she can possibly butt into, she does. I have no idea why Rose likes her.

She shrugged. “Hear that Maxwell? Savannah’s returning.”

“Yes!!” Maxwell fist pumped the air. “I knew it!”

By this time, they finally rolled into the palace. As they stepped out, they ran right into Liam and Emma, having a low octave conversation.

I wonder how lunch went. There’s no guards or ambulances, so I guess no one died. That’s always a good sign.

“Told you we’d find them here.” Drake announced, startling Emma and Liam out of their conversation.

“What’s going on?” She asked.

“Oh, not much. We just came to invite you to the best beer garden in Cordonia!” Maxwell squealed.

Drake nodded cheerfully. “Emma’s in the clear, we’re home in Cordonia…that calls for drinks if you ask me.”

Holy…I’m in a damn good mood. I forgot what this even felt like!

“Hana’s been reading this place’s menu for the last hour.” Maxwell pointed out.

“Don’t judge. They have a lot of options!” She smacked his arm playfully.

Emma turns back to Liam. “Think you can get away for a little while, Liam?”

Liam frowns thoughtfully. “I have at least a dozen meetings this afternoon, but if you’re willing to wait until the evening…”

Of course, we need to wait for him. Some things never change.

Emma smiled at him. “I’ll be there. Someone has to keep an eye on these two.”

“Meaning…Maxwell and Hana?” Drake clarified.

“I don’t think Emma was talking about me.” Hana told him lightly.

That doesn’t even make sense. I don’t get drunk. Ever. I can certainly handle my booze, and I’m offended anyone thinks I can’t. I’ll show ‘em.

As they all parted for a few hours, Drake went up to his room, turning and locking the door behind him. Walking over to his dresser, he opened the top drawer and dug through the clothing until he found the small green satin box. His hands shook as he slowly opened the lid, revealing the diamonds inside.

I forgot how beautiful it is. It’s so…sparkly. I really hope she likes it. It can’t possibly be better than the one Liam…

He shook his head, ridding himself of the thoughts. It doesn’t even matter. Because it’s from me…she’s going to love it.

He smiled softly at the gold band and the three diamonds. One larger one and two smaller on its sides. He took a shuddery breath…and put the box in his pants pocket.

Okay, Sav. I have it. Just in case.

Later, as the sun starts to set, they ride through the streets of Cordonia. Chatter and music are already spilling over the garden’s walls then they arrive.

“Wow, this place is happening!” Hana gasped.

Drake looked around in appreciation. “I guess we weren’t the only ones who wanted to unwind.”

“Who wants drinks?” Emma asked

“Ooh, can I try their Raspberry Lambic?”

Emma shrugged. “If you get a table, I’ll see what I can do.”

While Hana and Liam search for a table. Drake leads Emma and Maxwell over to the bar.

“This round’s on me.” Drake stated, pulling out his wallet.

Emma’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re buying us drinks?”

Maxwell grasps her arm. “Emma, you should check if he has a fever.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Ha ha. Can’t I be in a giving mood once in a while?”

“Not without explaining yourself.” Emma joked.

He rolled his eyes and attempted to frown…but instead he found himself grinning from ear to ear.

“Fine, if you must know…I got a call from Savannah today. She’s coming back to Cordonia.”

“That is fantastic! You two can finally spend time together again!” Emma exclaimed.

He nodded vigorously. “Yeah. Yeah, we can. It’ll be good to catch up with her. Get to really know Bartie.”

“I’m guessing you aren’t the only person she and Bartie are coming to see.” Emma points to the far wall of the garden, where Bertrand is sitting alone, staring into a pint of beer.

“Oh, no.” Maxwell groaned.

Fucking Bertrand. “I’ll, er, let you two handle this.” Drake hurries off to a different section of the bar to grab the drinks, watching Emma and Maxwell walk over to Bertrand.

Fucker better not mess with my sister again, or I swear to god…

After receiving the tray of drinks, Drake walks over to the table Hana reserved for them. To his great disappointment, Olivia was also there. A moment later, Emma and Maxwell came over as well.

“Ah. So, Emma’s deigned to join us.” Olivia sighed.

Emma grinned. “Olivia. I missed you.”

Olivia shrugged, a hint of a smile on her face. “I admit, this gathering was growing dull without your senseless antics.”

“Hey, our antics are of the highest quality.” Hana argued.

“Come on, Olivia. Have a drink with us.” Emma told her.

“I already have a drink, Emma, are you blind? You can’t see I’m holding it?”

“Ugh, shut up Olivia.” Drake raised his glass to the center of the table, and everyone clinks their glasses together and takes a sip of the cool, crisp lager.

“Mmm. This is perfect.” Hana sighed happily.

Liam agreed. “It’ good to be home among friends.”

Drake chuckled. “Mostly among friends.” He pointedly looks over at Olivia.

“For your sake, I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.”

Drake shrugged. Whatever you need to do. I certainly don’t need saving from you.

As they all enjoy their drinks, a few patrons begin saying their goodbyes. Guests wander out of the garden in twos and threes, some more wobbly than others.

Liam glanced at his watch. “It’s even later than I thought.”

Drake looked at him in surprise. “Don’t tell me you need to head back to the palace. We just got here.”

“Need to? Not necessarily, but I probably should…”

“Come on, Liam.” Maxwell groaned.

“We haven’t even gone dancing yet!” Hana complained.

Maxwell turned back to Emma. “What about you, Emma? Do you want the party to stop here?”

Drake couldn’t stop his smile from returning. Guess we’re definitely not headed back yet.

“Let the party continue!” She announced with a laugh.

Damn, I love her.

“You heard her!” Maxwell races over to the music controller in the beer garden. He fiddles with it until a danceable, upbeat song begins to play.

“That’s more like it! I propose a toast! To us! There’s no one else I’d rather be here with.” Emma looked around at her friends proudly, and everyone raises their glasses except for Olivia. After a pointed pause, she lifts hers and sighs.

“You are all…a decent source of entertainment.”

“We try.” Emma beamed.

“Music, check. Audience, check. We have almost everything we need for a dance party…except more drinks!”

“I’m on it!” Emma jumps up, walking to the bar. About ten minutes later, she returns.

“Drinks achieved. Where am I supposed to dance my heart out in this place?”

Maxwell looked around. “There’s plenty of space if you know where to look.” He hops up on a small table and begins dancing to the beat. Each step brings him just short of the table’s edge as he shimmies across its surface.

“Maxwell, let me show you how it’s done.” Emma hope on her own table, steps, slides, and shimmies to the music.

“I think she’s got you beat.” Drake laughs, downing his drink. Before he knows it, there’s another in his hand.

“We’ll call it a tie.” Maxwell mumbled.

She climbs down from her personal table as Drake helps Liam put several tables end-to-end into a long ‘dance table.’

Rashad glares at Drake. “We might have been using that table, you know.”

Seriously? “It wasn’t even touching yours.”

Neville scoffed. “That’s not the point. A gentleman would have asked.”

Gentleman my ass.

Drake pointedly drags the table away with a smirk on his face. Rashad turns back to his drink, sighing. “Remind me why you brought me here instead of to a quiet bar?”

“After a long royal tour, I find it refreshing to unlance one’s boots and fraternize among the commoners.” Neville waved his hand dismissively at Drake.

Oh that mother f…

“Ugh. His name should be in the dictionary under ‘pompous.’” Emma grimaced.

Hana suddenly stood tall. “Everyone…wait here. There’s something I need to do.” She strides over to Neville and Rashad’s table.

Neville immediately plasters a smile on his face. “Lady Hana! What a delight to find such a radiant flower in so base a setting. I told you she’d be back, Rashad. A woman in her situation simply can’t resist my charmi…”

“I’m not interested.” Hana interrupted loudly.

“I beg your pardon?”

“You’re self-absorbed and stuck up and…and boring! I will never be interested in you. And that blazer will never be your color.”

Neville’s jaw drops and before he can respond, Hana spins around and walks back to their group’s table. Neville stares after her, dumbfounded, while Rashad clutches his beer, looking torn between amusement and horror.

“That…felt…amazing!” Hana was beaming, and her smile was infectious.

Maxwell gives her a high five. “Damn! Overly-honest Hana is my new hero!”

Even Olivia was chuckling. “That blazer line was particularly cutting.”

Hana’s smile turned to worry. “I didn’t even know what I was going to say until I was standing in front of him. Do you think it was too much?”

Emma slung an arm around her friend. “Honestly, I have never been prouder of you. If I had a trophy I’d give you one.”

“I’ll contact the royal smithy.” Liam agreed.

Hana blushed. “You guys…”

Olivia rolled her eyes. “Don’t try to be modest, Hana. You stood up to him with courage. You should be proud.”

“This calls for celebration.”

“Hold my drink!” Hana climbs onto the combined tables and begins a series of elegant steps, her arms tracing careful arcs through the air.

Liam watches in amazement. “When did you learn the Cordonia harvest dance?”

“Well, I wasn’t sure which traditional dances were still in fashion at court…so my parents had me learn all twenty-six of them.”

Twenty-six? Wow. That. Is. About the worst thing I’ve ever heard. This poor girl really never got out.

Maxwell turns to Olivia. “Olivia, what about you? I bet you secretly now how to cut loose.”

She rose her glass in response. “I’m quite content with my drink. It’ll give me a better view when one of you falls of that table.”

“Hey, we’re a coordinated bunch.” Drake drinks the last of his beer and climbs onto the table with Hana and Maxwell. He nearly tumbles off in the process, until Maxwell catches him.

Olivia smirked. “My money’s on Drake falling first.”

“Mock me if you want, Olivia, but I’m still going to have a good time!” Literally no one can take my good mood away from me. My life is good. For the first time…I love where I’m heading.

He looks down and sees Emma and Liam deep in a conversation and for a split second, his smile droops. I have no reason to be insecure. Damn. This is such a different feeling for me. I wonder if I’ll ever get used to it? I hope so. Maybe when we’re married…

Drake pats his pants and feels the edges of the box. He looks back over at Emma and tries to picture her wearing the ring.

“Emma! What are you still doing down there?” Hana called.

“I’m coming, I’m coming” She climbs onto the table as a lively folk dance begins to play through the speakers. “Drake. Over here”

Drake dances his way over to her. “We’re doing what now?”

She links her arm through his and begin to trace the steps of a circle. He concentrates on her footwork, and after a few steps, he catches on, circling her in turn. As their momentum carries them both through the rest of the song, Drake can’t stop smiling at her, enjoying a rare feeling of unbridled joy. “That was…fun, Rose”

She smiles softly. “Yeah. Yeah, it was.”

Everyone climbs down from the table to catch their breath once the song ends. Drake, Liam, and Hana then start putting the tables back together while Maxwell turns down the speakers.

Liam looks around in satisfaction. “It’s nearly midnight. This time we really should end the evening’s festivities.”

“Let’s go home.” Emma winked at Drake, his heart surging with love and warmth. They all walk home to the palace, enjoying the peaceful evening, and Drake strolls along at the back of the group, humming faintly to himself.

My sister’s coming home…Emma Rose loves me; my friends are fun…life is so good. I love life. Why don’t I feel this way all the time? Life is soooooo great. So many beautiful and wonderful things and people to do and see…er…people to see and things to do…

“Drake are you…drunk?”

He snaps his eyes up and sees only he and Emma are outside of the palace. Everyone else must have already gone inside for the night. “Noooooo way, Rose. I don’t get drunk. Maybe you’re drunk.

An amused look crosses her face. “Uh huh”

“I’m just…happy. We’re home, Savannah’s coming home…you like me for some reason…”

“Okay, you’ve definitely had more drinks than I thought.”

Drake chuckles. “My point is, things are going good. For everyone.”

“It’s about time.” She agreed.

Oh my god. I have the most brilliant idea ever. Oh, she’s going to LOVE this!!!!

He looks at her in excitement. “Hey, how about a palace tour tonight? Just you, me, and old portraits of stuffy people?”

Emma blinked. “We’re all staying in the palace. I’ve seen it.”

He shakes his head vigorously, before feeling a tad dizzy. “Nah, Rose. You’ve seen the palace the way the royal family wants you to see it.” He leans in conspiratorially. “I can show you the palace…like you’ve never seen it before.”

“Are we talking secret rooms?” She asks in a hushed tone.

His eyes widen. “If I told you, it wouldn’t be a secret anymore.”

“Good point.” She laughs.

“So? You coming or what?”

“Oh I’m definitely in. Where does this tour start?”

Yessssssssss

“Just keep up with me, Rose.” He grabs her hand and pulls her along, leading them to the grand ballroom. He looks around the space with interest.

“So, you brought me here to show me…tables?” She asked, skeptically.

He feigns offense. “Come on, Rose, you’ve gotta look deeper than that. Really take in the scenery.”

“Such as…?”

He starts pointing. “See how that part of the chandelier is shinier than the rest? And those flower petals in the…the…”

“The molding?” She supplied

She’s so smart. So, so smart.  “Yeah, that stuff! See where a couple of them got replaced?” He walks over and points out both repairs. They would be almost impossible to spot without a guide, and he’s feeling very proud of himself for knowing the real history of the palace.

“Where do you think those came from?”

“They’re from you and Liam.” She said without hesitation.

He stared at her a moment, caught off guard. “Damn, Rose. How’d you know?”

She laughed. “You looked way too proud of it. What happened?”

“Well. There was this super rainy winter one year. I’m talking cats and dogs for days. So, after a while, me and Liam decided to play some indoor soccer.”

“That can only end well.”

“Pssh. I’m great at soccer. Best defense in the palace. So, when Liam got frustrated and tried a shot from across the room…” He mimes the trajectory of a ball bouncing from chandelier to wall to floor, complete with crashing sound effects.

“Did you get in trouble?”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “…nothing your old pal Drake Walker couldn’t handle.”

“Wow. To think, this top-secret palace history has been in front of my eyes this whole time.”

That sounds like sarcasm…but she has a straight face…Ha, I’m blowing her away right now with all my knowledge.

Grinning, he goes to lean against the wall and nearly misses. He catches himself just in time. “Whoa. H-Hey. D’you want to know another secret?”

She shrugged. “Sure.”

Give yourself a pat on the back later. This is the best tour of her life!!

“…This way!” Drake leads her to a familiar hallway. He stops halfway down it and frowns at the wall.

“Uh, Drake? I’ve walked down this hallway dozens of times.”

He looks around in confusion. “No, no, this isn’t it. You’ve gotta look…Out here!” He wanders over to one of the windows and gestures outside. “This is my faaaavorie view of the hic…the whole…palace. I like how you can see through it, even though you can’t move through it.”

Drake puts his hand against the solid glass. “And there’s so much…stuff…out there.” He looks out in awe.

That is just. So beautiful.

“It sure is something.”

He looks back and sees her smothering a laugh, and he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I wanted to show it to you ‘cause it’s pretty. And Emma…I mean, Rose…You’re pretty, so you and this view belong together.”

She touched his arm lightly. “I never knew drunk Drake could be so poetic.”

Whaaaaaaaaat? Again she’s calling me drunk. I’m definitely not drunk. “I’m not drunk. You’re just rrreeeaally sober.”

“Thank you…For taking me to such a romantic spot.” He can hear the sheer amusement in her voice.

“I’ve wanted to take you to this window for a long time.” He informed, smiling down on her.

“That’s…very sweet.”

“I was hoping you’d think so.” He glances back out the window and instantly realizes his mistake. “Oh, wait. This isn’t the spot. It’s this window over here. C’mon!” He leads her to another window.

“So pretty.” He murmured.

She rose an eyebrow. “…Riight. So, was this the secret you promised me?”

“Secret?” He frowns in concentration, scrunching up his nose until finally his eyes light up and he snaps his fingers. “I remember the other funny thing about this hallway.”

“What about…”

“Kiara’s room is over here.” He leads Emma a few doors down to one with an embossed sign beside it, bearing Kiara’s name. Drake knocks, but there’s no response. “No one’s home.”

“Why do you want to talk to Kiara in the middle of the night?”

He frowned, hearing the disdain in her voice. Why would I…ohhh I get it. No, that’s…no.

“I don’t.” He assured. “I want to prank her.”

Emma’s laugh rang out and she presses her lips to his cheek. “You are like a whole new person right now.”

“You still love me, right? Come on, Rose. Are we doing this or not?”

She looks around mischievously. “Let’s prank her!”

“Yeah!” He bumps her fist, then pats his shirt pocket, then pats down his jeans, feeling the ring box again.

Shit. Why did I listen to Savannah? That was stupid, it’s such a waste of pocket space.

He looks at her nervously. “Oh. I didn’t actually plan for this part. You got any ideas?”

“We should put shampoo in her bed.”

Drake looks at her in awe. God damn, she is the smarted, most brilliant woman alive. “You didn’t tell me you were an evil genius.”

She just shrugged. “Pranking people is one of my many talents.”

“Don’t let me get on your bad side.” They find an array of shampoos and conditioners in Kiara’s bathroom and lather them all over under the sheets. Drake carefully sprays hair spray onto her pillow.

“Uhh, Drake?”

Why is she looking at me like I have three heads? He looks back at the bottle in his hand. “This stuff belongs on her hair!”

“Not anymore. When you pull a prank, you’ve gotta go big or go home!”

He thought a moment, then snapped his fingers. “Got it!” He sprays the bottle again, leaving at least a few ounces of hair spray on the foot of the bed. He stepped back to admire his work.

Hmm. Can’t really see it.

“Close enough.” Emma teased.

Why are we still here? There is something way better to still be seen by her eyes, and only her eyes.

“Let me take you to our last stop.” He says abruptly. Drake leads her through parts of the palace he knows she’s barely seen before, following only his known path through the maze of hallways. Finally, he holds open a heavy wooden door and ushers her into a deserted library.

She gasps in delight. “Whoa…I didn’t take you for a library kind of guy.”

“Oh, yeah, I love books. Sometimes I even read past their covers.” He replied, distracted.

“Did you bring me here to read to me?”

This time he doesn’t even bother to respond. He wanders along the shelves, frowning in concentration, and nearly walks into a carved pillar as he traces his hand along book spines. “Where did it…” His shoulder glances off the side of a pillar, and something behind it begins to rumble. Dust rises from the nearest shelves as a panel in the wall swings open. “Oh, I found it! C’mon Rose!”

He quickly ducks inside the dimly lit tunnel. “Welcome…to my secret passage.” He looks at her proudly.

“Where does it go?” She asks curiously.

He shrugged. “A dead end. That part’s no fun. The cool part is just…this passage. It’s like a…a special hideout. That’s what I used it for, growin’ up. Whenever I got too fed up with all the phony smiles and parties…I’d come here. Where nobody could find me. Even Liam doesn’t know about this place.”

“But…now I do. Why bring me here?” She steps closer to him.

A slight blush crept up his neck. “I thought, now that you’re gonna be duchess and all…if you ever get tired of dealin’ with the court…you can come hide out here too, Emma.”

“You just did it again.”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “Did what?”

“Called me Emma.”

“I…oh. I did, didn’t I.” He scratches his chin, thinking hard.

Called her Emma…Why did I do that? I know there’s a reason, just…

His eyes lit up in excitement. “That’s the secret I was gonna tell you! About your name. It’s not as awesome as this, though.” He waves his hands at the ancient stone walls surrounding them.

She steps even closer. “Well, I still want to hear it. You call Liam, Maxwell, and Hana…Liam, Maxwell, and Hana. Why are you always calling me Rose?”

Drake sits down on a stone step. He runs a hand through his hair as he searches for the words. “The truth is…I started calling you Rose ‘cause I didn’t want us to get close when you showed up. Didn’t want to get…used to you. But you kept sticking around, and being you, and after that…I didn’t want you to know how I felt. So now Rose’s just my thing. Our thing. I guess. I can’t believe I called you Emma. Felt kinda weird.”

He looks back into her eyes and sees softness.

“Thank you for telling me.” She murmured quietly.

“Thank you.”

“You mean, you’re welcome?”

“No, no, no. Thank you for going on this tour with me.”

“I’d give it five stars.”

He nods happily. “That’s the because I’m the best tour guide there is…and now my work here is done.” Drake closes the secret passage behind him as they leave the library. The two of them slowly make their way back to the hallway outside Emma’s room.

She turns to face him directly, just a breath away. She trails a finger down his stomach and he inhaled sharply. “So…Maybe I can give you a tour of my room another time.”

Oh my god, she’s talking about sex. She’s talking about sex! She wants to sleep with me!!! Damn it! Why am I so drunk??

His eyes focus on her with more clarity than he’d had all night. “I…I’d like that, Rose. I’d really like that. But tonight…I’m not exactly all here. If you’re talking about the kind of tour I think you’re talking about…I don’t want to miss a thing.”

She pouts, his eyes drawn to her lips. I wish I could sleep next to her tonight. Just literally sleep. That would be so nice.

“Another time, then.” She continues.” Maybe when you’re more…” Drake barely manages to stifle a yawn. “Awake?”

He nods. “Yeah. Another time. I won’t forget.”

As he turns to go, Emma leans in and kisses him on the cheek.

“Th-thanks, Rose.” He rubs his cheek, grinning.

 “Goodnight, Drake.”

He heads off to his own room as she shuts the door behind her. He starts humming again sleepily. She’s the best. I’m the luckiest guy in the whole world. And maybe I should be a tour guide…I know all kinds of history and she was completely enthralled with our palace expedition…

He pats his pocket once more, making sure the ring is still there. Okay Walker. Just keep it with you. You’ll know when the time is right. Just make it soon. It’s gotta be soon. Nothing to worry about.

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[kneewall49]

Another Sad Month

12 January, 2020

Our new neighbour Frank didn’t make it after a fall in his house.  Frank hang on in hospital for a week but passed away, not recovering from the head injuries from the fall.

We attended the funeral, which was Motoko’s first Western funeral, and I spoke on behalf of the two of us, as the two newest friends Frank had.  It actually was a very upbeat funeral and about 10 people spoke of their experiences with Frank, all on the light hearted side, as he was a character.  As he would have liked, there was much laughter about his life and adventures, and his ‘can do’ nature about almost anything. He reminded me of my dad in so many ways, always happy, nothing insurmountable, no challenge untried.

Of the funeral was a bit of a shock to Motoko, who is use to a very solemn and dark event, as is the case with funeral’s in Japan.

Motoko offered to make the casket arrangement using flowers from Franks’ garden, and pride and joy.  Everyone was suitably impressed, even the funeral director said they were stunning.

Frank’s passing was a great blow to us as we were extremely pleased to be living next to a gentleman with so much knowledge and experience and tools for nearly all things, for mechanical and construction tasks. We’d already recognised it was well worth getting Frank’s advice on any tool of task before making a decision.  We now have lost that valuable friend and resource. RIP Frank.

Now what else have we been up to?

It has been very hot, over 30 most days and very dry; can't remember when it last rained?  We have reached a point with the excavation where we may be exceeding the allowable changes you can make to your land without council permission, thus we reverted too the following activities:

We did have a holiday at Robert and Gail’s place at Eumundi to house sit their loverly house while they spent Xmas and NY in Sydney.

Nice to have a big shower space, a non port-a-loo style toilet, and a pool of course. We watched Netflix and could wash the cars on concrete, not dirt.

We started to clear the street frontage garden which was very overgrown with competing plants and trees.

We had Cherly come around and point the ‘finger of death’ at those trees/plants needing to go.  This activity was a bit drawn out as the weather has been constantly sunny and hot, and very dry making it a hot dusty task.  We have managed to clear about 3/4 of the frontage and meet some other neighbours during the task.

Below: Left, the front gate area gets a tidy up, and still requiring some planting after drought breaks. Right, a cleaner front garden screen, despite the crappy photo of our work. Bottom, and got the ute stuck in newly bulldozed soil, but managed to get the tractor and Motoko to pull it out.

I used the BX to help dig out a couple of stumps for the neighbour opposite who in turn gave us a nice bottle fo wine and Motoko’s favourite beer.

And the big news of the month! We submitted the build plans to the Certifier for BA approval, after receiving the Engineer’s plans for slab and roof steel specs just before Xmas.

Other news or rather decisions we made: We’ll now start the build with the Living/Garage, not the guest room.

After a discussion with Mr. Wentzel, he advise starting with the biggest building, as leaving the most expensive room to last may mean a bigger increase in cost if delayed until a minor buildings were completed. 

This had the following impact.  

One: it meant taking down the two shade shelters as theses stood inside the new building’s footprint and would be in the way. 

Two: we had to move the stockpile of materials we been collecting to another area outside the footprint.  

Three: means doing the biggest building first will require use of professionals earlier than expected, or rather when I have somewhat less experience than I may have.  

Anyway I do agree with John’s advice and we have moved those former   incursions, restarted levelling the middle area, and using the guest room footprint as a new store area.

Photos below: Left, no more shade for the cars. Middle: the building pad, plus the 10m terrace area looks pretty big! Right: the erosion fence gets a test after the rain.

We expect to get the go ahead by months end!