#but some friends wanted to see mine as well ^^;;

[ipushhimback]

How about something with Max and he’s like always grumpy and rude but never to the reader and just has a soft spot 😩 love me some grumpy x sunshine

i am so extremely sorry this took me so so long so please forgive me. also i tried my best but i am not completely happy with it. anyway, enjoy reading it <3

a softie

pairing: max verstappen x reader warnings: none word count: 1.2 k summary: max takes you to the paddock for the first time <3

“Are you sure I’m allowed to come with you to the race? I don’t want everyone to hate me when I’m there. And won’t I be in the team’s way?” you asked Max as you looked at yourself in the mirror, making sure your outfit didn’t look too bad.

“Of course you are. I’m sure there’ll be lots of other people around. And you’ll love the others. I heard Charles’ girlfriend, Alex, is going to be there, and Carmen, George’s girlfriend, as well. I haven’t talked to them a lot, but I know they’re nice. Also, you won’t be in anyone’s way. And if you’re bored, you can hang out in another team’s garage with Alex or Carmen,” Max said as he walked over and wrapped his arms around you from behind.

“I’m just worried… You know how I am. Too much overthinking happening in my brain. What if they think I’m too much? I always talk a lot and never shut up. And I laugh at the worst moments!” you said, remembering how you’d laughed last week when your niece dropped her ice cream on the street.

You tilted your head back against Max’s shoulder.

“No, babe. They’ll love you for it. I promise,” your boyfriend said, pressing a tender kiss to your temple.

“Pinky promise?” you asked with a pout, holding your pinky out to him.

Max rolled his eyes affectionately but linked his pinky with yours.

“Pinky promise,” he said, smiling down at you. “Also, you look absolutely stunning.”

You grinned as you looked back in the mirror. You were wearing a new jean skirt and a blouse you’d bought just last week.

“Are you sure it’s not too basic?” you asked again.

“A hundred percent. You’ll be the prettiest woman in the paddock,” he said, giving your waist a final, gentle squeeze. “Now let’s go.”

***

A little later, you were walking through the paddock at Max’s side, holding his hand tightly.

“I already see it coming. I’m going to get lost here. Why are there already so many people? It’s so early! Don’t they want to sleep in like normal people on a Sunday morning?”

“Nope. They want to see us drivers and hope to get autographs and photos,” Max said with a chuckle.

At that moment, someone approached you and Max. You recognized him from a few races you’d watched—Lando.

“Mate! Who’s that?” he asked, greeting Max with a firm clap on the back.

“My girlfriend.”

You had to suppress a laugh at Max’s short answer. He really was the grumpiest person you’d ever met.

“Uh, since when do you have a girlfriend? Why haven’t you told us about her?” Lando asked, looking a little disappointed. “I thought we were friends, mate!”

“We’re not.”

You couldn’t suppress the laugh anymore.

“Excuse my boyfriend here. I’m Y/N. His girlfriend for about half a year. Nice to meet you. You’re Lando, right? Driver for that orange team? Nice outfit, by the way. And your hair looks amazing! Do you use a lot of products for that? Those curls are incredible! I gave up on mine after I realized my hair just hates me.”

Lando looked at you with a frown, and you immediately started worrying that you’d said something wrong—until he suddenly burst out laughing. He had a funny laugh.

“No way you managed to pull her, Max,” he managed between laughs.

Max just looked at him blankly.

“Well, I did. And you’re still single. So leave me alone, Norris.”

“Rude,” Lando muttered, shaking his head as he turned and walked off.

Once he was gone, you turned to Max.

“Babe. You didn’t have to be so rude! Aren’t you two friends?” you asked, putting your hands on your hips.

“We are. But we’re also rivals. And we’re not the kind of friends who talk a lot about personal stuff. He’s too nosy. I want to have you to myself,” Max said as he leaned down to press a kiss to your lips.

You squinted at him before nodding.

“Mhm… Now let’s go. There are too many fans, and I need to meet everyone else.”

Max nodded and draped his arm around your shoulder as he led you further into the Red Bull garage.

“So, Yuki’s probably already somewhere around. You can say hi to him when you see him, but he’s a bit much. He talks a lot. Too much sometimes.”

“Ohh yes! I love people who talk a lot! It’s always so awkward when they don’t. Like, how am I supposed to react then? That’s why I love you. You always talk to me about things I like without making me feel bad about it!” you exclaimed, grinning widely.

Right then, Yuki came by—and he had clearly overheard.

“Sorry? Are we talking about the same Max? He never really talks! He just sits somewhere with his earbuds in, probably listening to a guided meditation,” Yuki said, laughing.

“No way! He’s a talking teddy bear! Can’t shut up after something exciting happens or when he reads something he knows I’ll find interesting. He seriously is the bestest boyfriend out there, aren’t you?” you said, turning to Max and pressing a kiss to his cheek, making him blush.

“I don’t…” he grumbled, trying to hide it.

“Sure you don’t,” you whispered, kissing him again. “Well, it was nice seeing you, Yuki!”

You stepped forward and hugged the shorter man. Yuki made a surprised noise but hugged you back.

Max cleared his throat, clearly jealous. The moment you pulled back from Yuki, Max’s arm was right back around your shoulders.

“We have to go now,” the Dutch driver said.

“Your girlfriend is amazing! Bring her to the paddock more often!” you heard Yuki say as the two of you walked away.

Once you reached Max’s driver’s room, he closed the door and turned to hug you tightly, burying his face in your hair and inhaling the scent of your shampoo.

“I love you,” he mumbled against your head.

“Love you more. Always,” you replied.

***

You later met Alex, Charles’ girlfriend, and Carmen, George’s girlfriend. All the other so called WAGs would arrive later or only the next day.

Alex was an amazing woman with an amazing dog. Leo immediately came over to you with a wagging tail, demanding attention that you immediately gave to the little sausage dog. 

Carmen wasn’t any less amazing than Alex. She immediately welcomed you with a tight hug.

“It is so amazing to meet you! I didn’t even know Max had a girlfriend!”, she has exclaimed as soon as you had introduced yourself. The rest of FP1 and FP2 you chatted with Alex and her about a lot of things.

Pets, Max, Charles, George, fashion, and more. 

***

That evening, you were curled up against Max’s chest, scrolling through Instagram. One post caught your attention. It was from a Formula 1 gossip page.

The new star of the paddock: Max Verstappen’s girlfriend. Who could have known that he is secretly a softie…

You chuckled.

“They’re calling you a softie,” you whispered.

“M’not,” came the gruff reply. But only a few seconds later, a soft kiss was pressed to the top of your head. “Maybe. But just for you.”

a/n: i got this request so long ago but it took me so long to write i am so sorry. also, if you have any other requests feel free to send them in <3 thanks to everyone who likes my fics!!

tags:

@strawberryy-kiwii / @a-distantdreamer / @requiemforthepoets / @martygraciesversion381 / @l-vroom4 / @sid-is-gr8 / @picklesbuddy93 / @sadiemack9 / @f1fantasys / @cloud-55 / @sunny44 / @widow-cevans / @gigicisneros / @mbioooo0000 / @sinfully-yoursss / @bravo-delta-eccho / @rue-t / @mayax2o07 / @suhchenjun / @pippyth3hippy / @sweate-r-weathe-r / @joannaln4 / @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy / @aleatorio1234 / @anayaverse / @htpssgavi / @dessashippr / @f1allymgp / @nickie-amore / @f1norris04 / @frostqueen-dhriya / @isagrace22 

[synity]

Hy there! i saw your post open arms and you're safe in my arm's and i love it!!! Can i request jun x reader girlfriend being focus with her friend and completely forgotten her boyfriend till jun being cute lil possessive trying separate them? Thank you!

COME BACK TO ME

(Wen Junhui x FemReader)

*Fluff, light angst, slice of life*

It started with a weekend plan that didn’t involve him.

Jun hadn’t minded at first. He knew how much Y/N loved her friends especially her childhood bestie who had flown in for a short visit. He encouraged her to spend time with them, even dropped her off at the café with a warm kiss on her forehead and a playful, “Don’t forget me, okay?”

But now, three days later, Jun sat on the couch in their shared apartment, pouting.

She hadn’t forgotten him… had she?

It wasn’t that she hadn’t texted at all. She had. A few good morning messages, the occasional photo of her and her friend at a restaurant or at the park. But he’d noticed the shift. The replies were slower, the calls shorter. Every time he asked, “When are you coming home?” she’d say, “Soon!” but soon never came.

Jun wasn’t the jealous type.

Well. He wasn’t usually.

But the image of Y/N laughing beside someone else, while he sat at home, missing her more with every hour, started chipping away at his calm composure.

He didn’t want to pull her away. He didn’t want to guilt trip her.

But he missed her. A lot.

And Jun never was the best at hiding his feelings when it came to her.

It was the fourth day when she finally came home past 9 PM, eyes sparkling with joy as she threw off her jacket and flopped onto the couch beside him.

“Oh my god, today was amazing,” she said, unaware of the slight pout on his face. “We went to the arcade, and then this retro diner—Jun, you would’ve loved it. I took so many photos.”

“Did you?” he asked quietly.

She turned to him, beaming. “Yeah! Wanna see—”

“Maybe later.”

She blinked, surprised. “Are you okay?”

Jun turned to her, finally letting the pout drop fully into a frown. “You haven’t really been around.”

Y/N tilted her head. “I told you I’d be busy this week.”

“I know. I told you it was fine,” Jun replied. “But I didn’t think ‘busy’ meant forgetting your boyfriend exists.”

Her smile faltered.

Jun sighed and stood up. “I’m sorry. That came out wrong. I just...” He hesitated. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” she said gently, reaching for his hand. “But Jun, I was just spending time with my friend. It wasn’t intentional.”

“I know it wasn’t,” he said, voice softer now. “But I’ve been sitting here every night thinking about you. Meanwhile you’re out there laughing with someone else, and I… I guess I got a little jealous.”

She squeezed his hand, heart aching.

Jun sat back down beside her, curling slightly into her shoulder. “You were mine first, you know?”

Y/N stifled a laugh. “Are you… actually being possessive right now?”

Jun tilted his head, faux-offended. “Is that so hard to believe? I’m a boyfriend too, you know. I get clingy sometimes.”

“You’re cute when you’re clingy.”

“I’m always cute,” he muttered, and she giggled.

She cupped his face gently and turned him to look at her. “I’m sorry, Junnie. I didn’t mean to make you feel left out. You should’ve told me.”

“I didn’t want to make you feel guilty,” he mumbled. “You were happy, and I didn’t want to ruin that.”

“You wouldn’t have ruined anything,” she said, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “You’re allowed to want my attention too.”

Jun softened, eyes drooping as he leaned fully into her now. “Then give me some.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Like now?”

“Now. Tomorrow. Every hour. Forever, ideally.”

She chuckled and shifted to pull him into a proper hug, and he instantly melted in her arms like he’d been waiting for that moment all week.

“I’m all yours tonight,” she whispered.

He nuzzled into her neck. “Good. Because I’m not letting you go again.”

Y/N paused. “...Did you really think I’d forget you?”

Jun pulled back and looked into her eyes earnest, quiet, and just a little shy. “No. But sometimes I forget I’m allowed to ask for you.”

Her heart ached in the softest way.

She kissed his forehead and said, “You don’t even have to ask.”

[mysteryshoptls]

Lilia Vanrouge Shared Lines

Tutorial: Now then, off we go. I'm sure time is precious to you.

Level Up 1: Is this what they call a growth spurt? Kheehee.

Level Up 2 / Buddy Level Up: Nice, I've leveled up!

Level Up 3: School life sure his worthwhile.

Level Max: It may be because I am brimming with more energy than ever before, but these recent days have been a blast. It is all thanks to you.

Vignette Level Up: Looking back, these days I've recently spent alongside you have been thoroughly delightful... Hm? Oh no, I'm not saying goodbye. You're stuck with me!

Spell Level Up: Well, this is nowhere near my full potential. I'll show you the true extent of my power some day.

Friendship Level Up: This place is filled with things that pique my curiosity. Of course, that includes you. Kufufu.

Friendship Level Max: I cannot believe I’ve gotten to this age, and I’m still making new friends that I can confide in. Kufufu, it’s a blessing to be able to live this long. Keep up the good work!

Uncapped: Oh, my, are you should you should be granting me even more power? Kheehee, I see. Then, I should not disappoint.

Groovification: Kheehee, I feel pumped up. I can't let myself fall behind all these youngsters.

Lesson Select 1: Yup, I'm totally ready! So, what should start preparing for?

Lesson Select 2: If you're too overeager, you'll burn out quickly. It's fine to take it easy.

Lesson Select 3: Studying alongside other students, hm? Sounds interesting, I'll actually put in some effort today.

Lesson Start: Time to learn to our fullest extent.

Lesson Finish: Mhm, a great class. This is truly what school life is all about!

Battle Start: Kufufu, I’ll play with you.

Battle Won: Don’t underestimate me, you fool.

Trouble 1: Kufufu, I got a bit heated, very unlike my age.

Trouble 2: You’re so small-minded, getting angry over something like that～

GIFT CALENDAR 2023: “How will you be spending the day?” We have band practice today. However… When it gets cold like this, my fingers get numb and hard to move. Hm? Naah, I already have the songs memorized. It’s really only about staying in rhythm with the other members!

Birthday Login Message 1: A birthday? Mine? Aah～ Now that you mention it, when I enrolled in this school, I might have said that. At some point before I forgot when my own birthday was. I didn’t think it would be celebrated. I’m happy, thank you.

Birthday Login Message 2: There will be a birthday party held for me today. Why don’t you join us? Of course, I won’t force you to, but… If you don’t come, I may become so lonely that I’ll start crying. [fake sobs] Oohh! Alright, so you’ll come! Kufufu, lets enjoy ourselves today to our hearts content.

Birthday Login Message 3: Well, well… No matter how old I get, it’s still lovely to have my birthday celebrated. …Eh? You want to put my age’s worth of candles on the cake? Kufufu, you don’t want to do that. It would be a shame if the cake was to be completely covered in holes.

Birthday Login Message 4: You came all the way out here to wish me a happy birthday? You have my thanks, [Yuu]. What would I like for a present? It’s fine, you don’t have to worry yourself about it. But if I really had to pick something, I suppose… I’d like to hear about your hometown. It would be fun to hear stories from a place that I know nothing about. There’s no way I’ll be letting you sleep tonight～!

Birthday Login Message 5: Thanks for coming to celebrate. I’m more than pleased to have you remember my birthday. The Pop Music Club is planning on having a birthday performance tonight. You’ll be joining us too, right? I hear that Kalim is preparing an extra-large cake as a surprise. Cater was worried that it wouldn’t be a surprise if he told me, but… Kheeheehee, I’m still happy about it. We’ll sing and party, surrounded by all those close to me… It’s this kind of birthday that makes me the luckiest guy in the world.

Requested by Anonymous.

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Indifference of Death

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)

“Did you not hear me?”

Nathan looked up from his dish of noodles to see Xexor looking at him; his hand still clutching the data pad while they dotted an expression of shock and horror.

After slurping up his forkful he shook his head. “Sorry mate,” he said sheepishly, “noodles always take priority for me.”

Xexor looked at his human friend in disbelief. “I just told you that there was a mining accident on the moon of Hosis VI.”

He placed the data pad on the table and spun it around for Nathan to see more clearly as the article began scrolling. “Over 500 humans are confirmed dead and another thousand are still missing.”

His human friend took another bite of noodle as his free hand slowly scrolled through the news feed recounting the events.

“Huh.” Nathan said as he passed the pad back and resumed eating noodles.

“That’s it? “Huh”?”

Xexor had expected some reaction but nothing as minimalistic as what he had just been given.

“I don’t know anyone working in those mines.” Nathan remarked as he looked at Xexor. “I had an uncle in resource management but they got let go weeks ago after he got caught labeling gold ore as “waste materials” and tried smuggling it out for profit.”

“Is that the depth of your compassion?” Xexor demanded. Whatever good times they had been enjoying were now well behind them as he felt growing disdain for his human friend. “You don’t care because you don’t know anyone there?”

Nathan sighed and put down his fork.

“Look, what do you want from me?” he replied. “I’m just trying to eat my diner here.”

“If something like this had happened to my people there would be no eating.” Xexor retorted harshly. “We would be glued to our data screens awaiting news or sending whatever aide we could to help!”

“Well I’m not a Velorian,” Nathan countered, “and this isn’t your planet.”

“It is becoming quite clear to me of both.” Xexor answered; their voice dripping with scorn.

Nathan set down his fork, his patience finally at an end.

“Do you know how many humans there are in the universe?”

When Xexor didn’t answer he continued.

“Over thirty billion humans are dotted across the stars from the inner worlds to the cosmic edge.”

“Congratulations on having a quick reproduction cycle.” Xexor scoffed, but Nathan shook his head.

“It means, you dick, that on average this kind of horrific event is happening on a daily basis to human’s across any number of worlds.”

He entered in several keys into the data pad and it switched from live feed events to the past few ddays.

“On Lucion III 300 humans died when a landslide took an entire city sector off the mountain and slid it into a waiting hamlet below.”

“On Virgo V thirty humans were flayed alive for not following local traditions about clothing at beach locations. “

“On Desimes Prime a human was turned into a fruit, diced up, added to a salad, and then fed to their partner at a restaurant.”

The list of horrific events continued scrolling by for Xexor to look upon as Nathan continued recounting horrible recent events. Each more terrifying than the last yet sometimes ranging from a single human soul lost to over ten thousand.

“What does this have to do with my point?” Xexor demanded, pushing the data pad away.

“It’s that what you consider to be a life changing event is just another Sunday to me.” Nathan said frankly. “I estimate in my time I have heard of the deaths of several hundred thousand people, and it’s not affected me in the slightest.”

Xexor looked at Nathan in disgust but said nothing. “How can you be so casual with such displays of horrific loss?”

Nathan threw his hands up in the air out of frustration and stood up. He paced the room back and forth while formulating some answer, any answer.

“I just….” He stammered as he stopped pacing and faced Xexor. “I just got numb I guess.”

“Numb?” Xexor asked; the ice in their tone chilling.

Nathan threw up his hands again and sat back down. “Every day I see something about someone, somewhere, experiencing a horrific death and before the day is over there’s another story of someone else going through another death.”

His expression turned dark as he continued. “Then another, and another, and another, and another…….”

Nathan looked up at Xexor and to his surprise he could see something lurking just behind his friend’s eyes that he couldn’t describe.

“Eventually all you can do is numb yourself to it, or else you’ll drown in it.”

Xexor didn’t know how to respond, so he just sat in silence.

Neither said anything else for the rest  of the night.

[kedreeva]

What was the issue with your tricolor mice before? Too much inbreeding or something?

The first tricolor mouse I got was an elderly female. She had 2 (tiny, iirc 3 in the first litter and 2 in the second) litters before eventually passing away due to age. The person i got her from informed me at the point of purchase that she was old and probably wouldn't have any litters, so I was still pleased with getting even a few babies. Unfortunately, I suspect I know why the breeder was offloading her, because all of the animals from that lineage dropped poor litters for propagation; the bucks all threw high-male litters (some litters ENTIRELY males), the does all threw SMALL litters, under 6 per litter and often only 3-4 (when a good, big litter is 10-12, if not 15+ in some robust lines). Normally you want a BIG litter, and then you cull down to the best looking babies (healthiest, biggest, best type, etc). But I was getting NOTHING to choose from- one doe here or there AT ALL. It was enough to limp the line along for a little while but ultimately not a feasible lineage.

The second group of tricolor I got was 2 bucks and a doe from someone in PA on my way through. One of the bucks passed away shortly after acquisition. The other buck was fine and the doe threw mid-sized litters (6-8), but at day 12, she would just say "fuck them kids" and abandon the litters. This is VERY poor breeding, and unfortunately even with fostering babies to other moms, I was never able to cure the line of this problem. The buck produced a few litters with some of my line's does, but the babies only carried the genes from the tricolor line, and were not great moms, though better than the doe was.

I ended up crossing the lines to one another (the PA tri male over the last two tri does), and got a couple litters from them of big, healthy babies, whose moms cared for them well, but they still had the problem of producing too many males, and despite my best efforts to the contrary, the line got down to just a few individuals, and I decided instead of continuing an endeavor in futility, I would cross the line SEVERAL times with the component genes.

So, crossed them into the part of the self black line that carried the ^ch gene (the "siamese" gene). The siamese line is my oldest line and the black line is a VERY solid line I had started from scratch, and that cross produced a bunch of splashes carrying pied. Those litters thrived (though I've ended that line now because the does started to develop tumors as they got older). I started founding a black pied line, and eventually used that to cross the splashes into, and the siamese as well for some stability in temperament, and I was seeing a lot of pied babies, and a lot of splash babies, and a lot of solid ("self") babies, but it wasn't until I gave some to a friend of mine that SHE started seeing the tricolor I was hoping for, and she brought them back for me to keep going with.

Those tricolors I crossed back into the lines here, and started to see large parts of litters be tricolor. The stage I'm in now is separating tricolors into breeding cages, and looking at the litters. I'm pleased to be seeing large litters of healthy animals, and a good 50/50 split on sexes for the most part. It took a very long time and a lot of work and a lot of failures despite effort, and I had honestly considered giving up just prior to my friend bringing the ones she got back to me.

I'm glad I didn't, and I really hope to be able to work with the improved line now.

[vvalentiqq]

May I request a fic where reader, in (fem) Scara's humble opinion, has an amazing (big), pretty chest.

May reader actually be a weeb who is kind of isolated for being a weirdo who can't hold a proper conversation, and scara takes full advantage of this without any shame😭 Let's make it that they're childhood friends.

And given that reader is a weeb, her socialisation and idea of social norms comes from anime she watched as a kid, and Scara knows this. Yk that trope in anime where the girls are often comfortable in being nude around each other, or god forbid, the tits fondling and teasing?

Scara encourages this. She's like "Oh yeah, this is totally normal. But this can only be done between girls who are BEST friends, and I'm your best friend. Your only best friend and no one can touch you here but me, whenever, however".

So the idea is that Scara has monopolized poor and oblivious reader's chest lol. She can fondle them whenever. When they're eating together, talking, cuddling and burying her face in her chest or shoving her head up her shirt like a creep <3 And she's bold or discreet depending on her mood.

I'm thinking of a scene where a guy is confessing to reader and Scara, who couldn't leave his dear darling with this FREAK, butts in and boldly touches reader while making the rejection for her.

If you want to lead this all up to some smut, I encourage it!

GOONER SCARA! YANDERE SCARA! MANIPULATIVE SCARA!

Fem! Scaramouche x Fem! Reader

“Degeneracy at its finest.”

! NSFW !

Info: Scaramouche is female, Scaramouche is a scum, Scaramouche is dirty minded, Scaramouche is referred with she/her pronouns, reader is a weeb, reader is oblivious to Scaramouche’s behavior, smut, cunnilingus, breast worshipping, reader is slightly pudgy w/ stretch marks.

note: mwahah, when I saw this (THAT I TOTALLLY HAD NO IDEA ABOUT IT) I just knew I had to write it. THANK YOU FOR your request.

—

Growing up, you were considered a weirdo of the sorts. You liked anime, and reading boys love manga,but being an otaku and fujoshi in your society was not considered normal. You even collected different figurines for example Lewd ones. Anime girls with unrealistic body portions with half their ass out was right up your alley. You had them nicely on your shelves. Your weird interests was what made you an outcast to your classmates. Scaramouche however, treated you like a regular person. She had made you feel that you weren’t just some weirdo, just a person with interests that didn’t harm anybody.

Scaramouche was a bit touchy with her hands always resting on the soft flesh of your tits. You can look away for a second and Scaramouche was already grabbing at your body. But that’s what friends do, that’s what she told you at least. You remembered how you were minding your business, and she just straight out asked “can I touch your boobs, I just want to see if there bigger than mine that’s all.” You didn’t mind it, so you agreed. Soon enough that’s how this habit of hers began, you thought it was normal. Even when her grubby hands reached around your back unclasped your bra, ‘it was an accident’ she would say. Yet she did it various of times, you might as well have grown slightly immune by it.

.

.

.

You got up from your desk, you let out a tiny whine as you stretched. It was the start of lunch, your stomach let out a low growl. You blushed a bit slightly embarrassed by the noise it made. You watched as your classmates stepped out of class joining their friends groups. You sat up pushing in your seat, grabbing your bag and you stepped out. Before you could leave, you were stopped at the door. A guy looked down at you, his skin freckled by the sun, and his eyes blue like rapid tides in waters. “Childe?.. uhm- did you need something?” You looked back to the classroom and him. Did he forget something? “(Y/n), I wanted to.. ask you something.” Your face flushed as you felt his hand grabbed yours, his hands were warm to the touch and slightly rough.

“I just wanted to say that- would you go out with-“ he was tugged away harshly, you watched as he fell on the ground, he let out a groan he rubbed the back of his head. “Oh!- Childe are you okay- let me help- AGHH!!” You were soon grabbed by your wrist and pulled away. “Goodness- was that guy bothering you? You should’ve waited for me to come for you.” Scaramouche spoke as she brought you towards the library. You headed to your usual spot, in the library. It was secluded by the various of bookshelves that covered it.

Her expression had become sour, as she thought about the ginger. Scaramouche had always been a little odd, when guys or girls would try talking to you. She had always manage to come right at that exact moment and pull you away, why was that? Because she was always watching. She loved everything about you, the way you would sniffle over sad romantic anime’s, and even when you’d laugh at the most dumbest of jokes. She disliked how you were so dumb, but she loved it too.

“I made some lunch- come on let me share with you.” Scaramouche was sat on the floor, she had opened her lunch box holding up some onigiri. You were sat beside her, you opened your mouth willingly. She placed it in your mouth, taking a bite you swallowed down some of the rice and pieces of seaweed. She watched you chew, your cheeks puffed up so cutely like a chipmunk. She wanted to do way more then just feed you, she wanted to spoil you rotten. She wanted to bury her head in your huge rack, and feel you squirm as her hand snuck under your skirt and played with your swollen clit. “Scara? Aren’t you going to eat?” You were always so considerate of her, she found that so fucking cute. She licked her lips as she leaned in closer.

She felt full just watching you eat, or just watching you in general. She glanced down at your delicate hand. The one that dumbass red-head touched, trying to stain what was hers. She grabbed your hand the one Childe held and she started to press kisses on it. “Scaramouche- wh-what are you doing?” You blushed as she kissed your hand, as she stopped she looked up at you moving closer to you. Her head delving into your cleavage her hands groped at your breasts. “Mm.. I’ve been feeling stress lately, I got a bad grade on a quiz..” that was a lie, she got straight A’s, it was just a little white lie to get closer to you is all.

Your hand ran through her soft indigo locks, she looked up at you. “It’s okay scara, a bad grade isnt the end of the world..” Those words of encouragement made her want to claim every part of you even more. As you spoke up, her hands left your breasts and reached for the pudge of your tummy. She gently squeezed at it, she had a scummy little grin on her face. Her other hand reached under your shirt unclasping your bra.. she tugged it down, she began to fondle them with her cold slender fingers she had a look of satisfaction on her face.

“your breasts are so much bigger then mine, theyre softer and warmer..” she pressed a gentle kiss on your collar bone. You just watched with a slight flush expression. Your nipples harden against her palms as she fondled your soft flesh.

“You shouldn’t let anyone else touch you like this.”

“Huh?... why’s that?”

“You know! people can take advantage of you and I’d hate for that to happen. So I say, it’s best if you only let me.” <3

You pondered over her words, you knew Scaramouche wouldn’t lie. That’s what you had told yourself at least. She gently lifted your shirt above your breasts revealing the heavy soft flesh. Your smooth creamy skin made her drool at the slight. “Scara- what are doing?.. hngh!~” Her soft pale lips latched onto your nipples. She sucked on the nub, you couldn’t help but like out soft whimpers. She gently pushed you down. Your back pressed against the wooden floors, her hands trailed over the stretch marks along the sides of you. She pulled away and flicked your nipple that was coated with her saliva.

“We’ve been best friends for such a long time right?… you trust me.. don’t you?” Her hands gently roam your body. “I- I do..” you whimpered as her hands spread your legs wide. Revealing your panties, your eye watched how she slowly dipped her head down between your legs. Burying her nose in your cunt inhaling your scent, you yelped slightly as she threw your legs over her shoulders. “You smell delicious” she placed a kiss on your clit, earning a whine from you. You felt her hands pull down your panties, revealing your pussy. She licked up lips as her tongue darted out to lick at your slick that dripped from your cunt.

“S-scara?.. do friends do this?…” you let out moans, you bit down on your bottom lip trying your best to stay quiet. She paused for a moment her expression turn slight sour “gosh your so fucking slow- I love you idiot.” She flicked your forehead you let out a tiny whine as a result, She placed her lips on your clit and she suckled on it, it sent shivers down your spine as she attacked at your sensitive clit. Your hands quickly grabbed at her indigo locks, you gently grinded your hips against her eager mouth. “L-love me??..” her tongue lapped at your folds, she loved it. She always dreamed of you like this, moaning as she abuses your pretty little cunt.

You were always a bit weird, but she loved you? Sure, she would touch you frequently. And yeah, maybe she has kissed your neck a time or two. Not to mention all the cuddling too, plus how she always prevented people from talking to you. But her loving you? It came off as a surprise, it not like you ever doubted nor dislike the thought. Let’s just say you’ve had a wet dream about you and her more than once.

“sweet..” her words were muffled, as she teased your hole with her tongue. Gliding it around coating it with her saliva. “Huh..?~ s-scara…~ stop doing t-that!..” you could feel her teeth nibble slight on your clit. The pressure you felt made your legs feel like jello. The shuffling of footsteps and whispers approached slowly.

“This sucks, she always does this!-“

“Childe, it’s just a girl. There’s plenty fish in the sea.”

“So?, I genuinely like her. I’m tired of her friend always stopping me before I can tell her how I feel.”

You looked at Scaramouche with a panicked expression. She gently emerged from the sloppy mess in between yours thighs she licked her lips with a smirk. She placed her index and ring finger right at your entrance. “S-scara what if they see u-us!..” she pushed her fingers into your tight canal. You let out a muffled moan as your hands reached to cover your mouth. You felt her fingers dig into your cunt. You whined as she fingered your cunt nonstop, her mouth reached down to your pussy once again.

She licked at your slick that spilled from your cunt, she was slobbering all over it. You couldn’t tell if they were getting closer or farther. “I- I’m.. gonna c-cum!!..~” you let out a whine as you squirted. The gushing of your essence splattered all over her face. You watch in embarrassment as she licks it all up. She swallowed it with a smirk on her face. She pulled out her fingers. She has front row view of your sloppy cunt, the way it clenched on nothing. She felt wet herself, her panties were already soaking.

She heard them get closer, she grinned as she stuffed your discarded panties in the pockets of her skirt. “Huh.. my panties!!—“ you ran after her a puddle of your essence remained on the ground. You were going to clean it but they were already coming. You ran away after her and felt someone tug you behind a shelf. “Shh, watch..” she held onto your waist as your both peek from behind the shelf.

“Huh? why is there a puddle here?..”

“Come on, let’s go- I don’t want to get yelled at by the librarian for making a mess I didn’t make—“

You watched they walk away from it, most likely not wanting to get blamed for spilling something, you felt a bit rejuvenated. Was it because they almost caught you? You felt Scaramouches hand shove into your shirt you let out a whine as she grope at your tits again. She started placing kisses on your neck before whispering in your ear.

“Your mine, no one else should touch you like this.”

“Scara?—“

She shut you up with a kiss, she let go of your breasts and pushed you against the shelves. You blushed furiously your gaze strictly on her. You watched as she wrapped her arms around your waist holding you tight against her.

“I love you, so much it hurts.”

Note:

hi guys! Sorry for taking awhile,I’ve been busy with some stuff. But leave a like and comment if you enjoyed it! (sorry if the smut was a little sloppy, it’s my first time writing pussy getting eaten ) THANK YOU @crepezinhos for proof reading!!

[beuxwhoyouare]

A Way Out

Priya had been married for 20 years when it hit her, she didn’t even like her husband. She had 3 great kids with the youngest, Ty, soon to leave off to college. She had all of them young and by most standards even got married young but she was tired of the man she slept next to every night.

Barreling through the door, Ty barged in with his best friend Max, breaking Priya’s somber train of thought. Ty droned on about how they were gonna go upstairs and play some game or something…but she was phoning in her attention. Max stayed back in the kitchen but lingered a bit longer than usual sparking something in Priya to ask if he was okay?

“What’s on your mind Max?”

“Ahh nothing Mrs. Smith. I just don’t wanna graduate and other stuff.”

“Oh? I thought you were excited for college and getting away?” Priya remains surprised at the lack drive she had seen previously in Max.

“I mean I’m excited to be done with high school but I don’t really want to go to college…and truthfully I’ve been questioning myself a lot. Like am I really this guy? This guy that plays games and wrestles around? I mean it’s not fun like it used to be.”

“Oh Max. This is a transitional period of your life. It’s natural to be scared and worried about what’s next. Have you spoken about this with your parents?”

Almost cutting off the completion of Priya’s sentence, Max blurted out—

“I think I want to be a woman. No, I know I do. And actually I’ve done a lot of research. And—and I found this crazy scientist guy who made this device and I mean I wouldn’t have believed him but we tested the thing out and it worked.”

Priya cautiously approached Max to try and calm him down during the frenetic moment.

“Max what is it? Are you okay did he hurt you?”

“No no no see I’m messing things up I just meant all this to say. It’s a body swapping remote.” He gestured as he looked to his side to pull up the device the size of a smartphone.

“I just point it at the subject and we swap poof done in an instant, with a jolt or two I guess. And —and I know it sounds crazy but Mrs. Smith I wanted to see if maybe you’d let me be you?”

“I don’t know what’s gotten into you Max but this prank isn’t very funny.”

“I swear it’s not a joke and I mean I could even just have brainwash swapped you so you wouldn’t even known it happened but I believe in consent and I wanted to make sure you were okay with it. It—it doesn’t have to be permanent maybe just a trial to like let me see if I really do want to be a woman. I mean you guys are like my family, mine doesn’t even know if I’m there or not and I just thought it’d be a safe place?”

Priya’s mind raced. Could Max be telling the truth? Could a solution to her dissatisfaction in marriage really have just presented itself to her like this? But if it hadn’t what if this was all just a cruel joke?

“Max, assuming this isn’t a joke, what are you gonna say to Ty? Or what do I say to my John my husband?”

“I mean, I don’t think I’m ready to come out yet, can’t this just be our secret?”

Priya nearly salivated at the thought of the opportunity placed right in front of her. This is it, a way out of this dead end marriage and even better she wouldn’t have to abandon her family. She’d still be close.

“All right let’s do it Max, but let’s just have you spend the night so if you have concerns or worries you can reverse it.”

“Well Mrs. Smith don’t you mean you spend the night?”

Max winked and before he even let Priya digest the magnitude of what she agreed to he slapped the remote and the jolts consumed them for what felt like ages.

A ringing filled their ears and then thumping. Wait that was pounding on the steps, Ty came rushing down the stairs to yank on Priya’s arm.

“Dude! Max lets go! I’ve got the game readied up we’re in queue let’s go!”

Max in Priya’s body already acclimated to the sensation from his first swap quickly informed Ty that Max was spending the night tonight before winking at the disheveled 18 year old still trying to understand what happened.

The new Max blindly followed Ty up the stairs as John walked into the kitchen side door.

The new Priya greeted her new husband with an uncharacteristic smile, hug, and forceful going in for a kiss. John surprised by the show of affection caved and wrapped his arms around her rear. Clearly things were going to be different.

Later that night, Priya laid in the guest room bed when she was woken up by peculiar yet familiar sounds. She got up and walked around the halls until she pinpointed the sound in her former bedroom. When she pressed her ear into the door she gasped. Creaks and squeaks of coils rang out along with deep moans….she smiled with her new masculine face. This really was a way out for both of us.

That was 4 years ago now…

Priya, now for obvious reasons going by Max now, was a personal trainer and fitness coach. He didn’t go to college but instead focused on chiseling out his once skinny frame. She didn’t have to go the cliche route of becoming such a dude when she became Max but it just felt easiest. Plus the pump sends her young hormones raging and she was addicted to pump and dumping. Must come with the age…or lack there of.

Max, as Priya, found a renewed interest in her husband and even recently found out she’s somehow pregnant. Much like Priya, Max found it easier to cave into cliche gender roles and John being a fine specimen of a man didn’t really hurt either.

Max invited Priya over because the family was set to celebrate Ty’s graduation. Being an empty nester, Max needed extra help to decorate the family home for the party. Priya’s last client at the gym made her run later than expected pushing her to text Max.

“Hey running behind with this client. Can I freshen up at your place before the party?”

“That’s okay with me Max 😘” Max replied with the not non-chalant emoji placement.

Priya and Max filled each other in on the latest goings on in their lives as their hung up balloons and streamers when Priya deemed it close enough for her to get ready.

“Shit. All this clothes is too tight now that I’m bigger I guess.” she said as she tried to wear old formal clothes Ty left at the house before moving for college.

Just then Max came in without knocking, hand full of John’s formal clothes dropping to the floor as he stood agape in the doorway.

That’s definitely not the body I left behind, he thought to himself. Priya started turned and then quickly began to use her hands to cover herself for modesty before grabbing the nearby towel.

“Mrs. Smith! I’m getting changed in here!”

“Max when did? I guess….I made a decision before I really saw what I could achieve?”

“Well Mrs. Smith. I put in the work and you had other desires you know? Like you’re gonna be a mom again!”

“I know but maybe. Don’t you want your life back Priya?!”

Max almost hysterically began pleading with Priya to give him his old life back. Just minutes ago they were having a good time updating each other on how good their lives have been recently and now this? Priya was shocked but also nearly vengeful. This man wants a life she built for herself? She got out of a miserable marriage and found happiness for herself. He’s not taking that from her.

“No, MRS. SMITH. This is my life and I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m Max Euceda and I’ve always been.”

“You know I could just get the remote and change us back. But I was being nice.”

The pregnant mother made her way to her bedroom and as she pulled the remote from the drawer, the personal trainer came swiftly barreling through to snatch it.

“Nice people don’t call themselves nice.” Priya shouted at her former body before running back to the restroom and locking the door.

Sifting through the settings she found the setting Max once told her about. Brainwash! This would fix this issue once and for all. Max slapped the door calling and crying for Priya to let him have her beefy body. Priya opened the door to the sobbing mess and stood her ground.

“No. I didn’t work my ass off for all this just for some man to take it from me. But if you want this meat so bad you can have it.” Priya said as she slapped the remote. The jolt was one sided this time and when it stopped, the crying pregnant woman shook her head and looked up at the scantily clad best friend of her son…or so she now thought.

“Hey Mrs. Smith. I just don’t know if I can do it I mean you’re married and happy! But if you really want to do it in the backyard let’s do it before they all get here for the party.” Priya’s male hormones were getting the best of her but she also knew her former body well too. Every pregnancy made her so feral.

“Get on your knees Priya. You’re gonna love this.” Priya cockily smiled as she began to warm up her hardening meat.

[pannman]

Whats On Your Mind

Yandere Radioapple x Telepathic Reader

Pt 6

Part 5 here

TW: attempted sexual assault, manipulation, possesiveness, overprotectiveness, sexual harrassment, murder, violence

You didn't mean to drift off. But finally feeling safe after what felt like an eternity and being so dog tired had hit you like a truck. When you finally awoke you were in Lucifer's apple tower lying in his bed. You woke to see him standing over you with his face awfully close. He blushed gold. "Oh sorry... you just... looked so peaceful." He held a hand out to help you up. You took it rising up from the bed and sliding off onto your feet. You yawned. "Thanks, I'm..." memories suddenly came flooding back. Horrible memories. "Lucifer! Alastor took me. He held me captive. I-" you couldn't begin to explain without your heart racing but he cut you off. "I know" he replied.

"What do you mean you know?" You questioned. "You don't remember? You told me in great detail last night before you passed out in my bed." You didn't recall this at all but you were so tired and traumatized yesterday that it is totally possible. "So, what's gonna happen now?" You asked. "What happens now is I kill the son of a bitch" Lucifer's eyes turned red and his head grew horns as heat radiated off of him. You had never seen him like this. Not that it bothered you. It was just odd to see him not being his dorky goofy self

Suddenly his thoughts went off in your mind

*I'll rip him limb from limb*

You weren't concerned. It was understandable anger and you'd be lying if you said you didn't want the bastard dead yourself. "Alastor, had a deal with me before. I'm sorry for what I did but I truly do care for you. He was threatening to tell everyone about my powers and if everyone found out it would put a target on my back. But I don't care what he does anymore" you confessed

"Well I do. I don't want him or anyone else to hurt you ever again. I would do whatever it takes to protect you." Said Lucifer. "Well with Alastor out of the way I know I'll be fine" you responded. Lucifer wasn't convinced. "But what if some other overlord finds out. What if they take you away from me?" You could see Lucifer was genuinely worried about you. "I've kept it secret this long. Besides no one is gonna mess with me if they know you wouldn't let them get away with it." You took his hands and gazed at him affectionately hoping to calm his fears.

"You're right" he sighed. You smiled at him. "If everyone knows your mine they'll leave you alone..." you felt he was moving a bit fast but brushed it off. He hadn't really been in a relationship since his wife left

*I have an idea*

"I have an idea" his words mirrored his thoughts. "Yeah what's that?" You asked. "What if I owned your soul?"

"What?"

You were confused and concerned. You tried to rationalize as Lucifer had never once crossed your boundaries. This was Lucifer. Lucifer tried to explain. "Well even after I rid the world of that filth that is ALASTOR, there are still demons out there that could hurt you. But if you sold your soul to me, it might keep you safe if and when I can't be there. No sinner would dare cross the king of hell himself. And I could give you anything you want in return. Money, power, a life of luxury. Anything your heart desires is yours for the taking you just name it" this was a big decision. Not one you wanted to make until you thought it over for a while. "Can I... have some time to think?" You asked

"Of course" he agreed. He led you out of his room staying by your side as you made your way down the stairs into the lobby where your friends you had missed for so long were waiting for you. Charlie hugged you so hard you felt like you might pop. You explained what had happened... in vague terms. You didn't want to tell everyone about your powers or the fact that he forced you to commit cannabalism. But after hearing about Alastor's actions it seemed everyone's perspectives of him were shifting

"I can't believe Al would do something like this" Charlie had always assumed the best in everyone but Vaggie on the other hand was quite the opposite. "I told you he was pure evil" she readied her spear as if he could pop around the corner at any minute. "You know I haven't seen the smiley fuck in hot minute" Husk pointed out. And he was right

As the weeks went by it was abundantly clear Alastor had disappeared. Probably on the run from Lucifer's rage. Lucifer exhausted all his resources looking for him. And it all came up empty. He did disappear for 7 years once. It seems he's good at it. You took the time think about Lucifer's offer. If anyone would respect your soul it was Lucifer. But he'd been behaving rather strangely lately. His thoughts often spiraling more than normal and he stuck to you like glue. But you figured it was just because he almost lost you

Your relationship grew too as you soon began cuddling and having late night movie dates in your room. You felt yourself growing giddy every time he texted you like a teenage girl with a highschool crush. The two of you would get into tickle fights on the bed. The more time you spent the more certain you were that you were in love. One day, you made a decision. A decision that would change everything

It all started when you went out to run an errand for Charlie. Lucifer wanted to accompany you but he had important kingly duties. You insisted he stay and do what he needed to do. "I can handle myself. Its right around the corner." And it was right around the corner. Just some flowers for some party Charlie was throwing. The flower shop extremely close by. Lucifer despite his worries let you go.

You made your way down the street moving quickly as to avoid being out by yourself for too long. You entered the shop. Flowers and succulents and pretty plants of all types adorned every crevice. You approached the desk and waited as the clerk went to grab your order. As you waited a large hog like sinner approached.

"Hey there hot stuff" he rested his arm onto the counter and leaned in far too close. "Never seen you around these parts before" you grew uncomfortable. Even more so as his thoughts sounded off alarm bells in your head

*oh the things I'm going to do to them...*

The clerk came back with your flowers. You slapped all the cash you were given down on the counter and said "keep the change" before hurriedly exiting the shop. It didn't seem like that creep was following you. You almost breathed a sigh of relief until two big sinners cut you off from an alley. You heard the pig's voice behind you. "Where do you think you're going?" You were surrounded. Their nasty thoughts sending shivers up your spine as you tried to scare them off

"I wouldn't fuck with me! My boyfriend is Lucifer and he'll destroy you!" You threatened. "Oh sure! 'My boyfriend's Lucifer' likely story" the hog mocked. You braced yourself, fists up and ready to fight for your life but not liking your chances when suddenly a beam of light blinded you and your 3 assailants. Then suddenly the leader of the thugs was tossed into a brick building so hard it caused the wall to crumble. It was Lucifer. In his demon form

"You aren't the smartest bunch are you?" Lucifer said coldly. They got on their knees to beg forgiveness. "Please your majesty! We didn't know! We're sorry!" They groveled at his feet. "Well I suppose that's up to my beloved. What say you?" He asked. He was letting you decide their fate. You thought about what these monsters wanted to do to you and it occured to you that you probably weren't the first and probably wouldn't be the last. You simply gave him a thumbs down. He turned to the quivering demons in front of him and he pointed his finger at them before blasting them with holy fire. Enough holy fire to destroy half the city. They didn't stand a chance...

After the threat was taken out Lucifer immediately fawned over you. "Are you hurt? Were you scared? What can I do?" He checked every inch of you for injuries

*if anything happened to them I swear*

"I'm ok." You reasured. "Good." He sighed in relief. You continued. "I think... I have an answer for you now... the answer is yes. You can have my soul" Lucifer's eyes widened. "Really? Are you sure?" He asked. "Yes. But in exchange, you can protect me as you just did but I want something very specific." You replied mysteriously. "Yes of course ANYTHING" he answered prematurely. "I want you to give me full control over my powers" you had thought about this for a while. Part of you wanted to get rid of your powers entirely but another part of you knew that they had saved you dozens of times. Full control over them would be most ideal

"I want to be able to read minds on my terms"

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

I'd love it if you wrote something sweet with "You're my home" + William Tell.

Aww, of course! I am so sorry this took so long!

Home

William Tell x gn!Reader • Rating: pg+ pals • Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • buy me a coffee? •

Summary: You and William go to your friend's house for a game night.

Warnings: Fluff, established relationship, mention of reader's friends (they are not named/gendered), not beta read, please let me know if I've missed a warning.

Word Count: 352

You had been pleasantly surprised when William had said yes to meeting some of your friends. 

Despite him happily listening to you speak about them, you knew he tended to keep to himself and found it draining to socialise with a group of strangers. Still, he’d been eager, in that quiet way of his, to go and have a games night at one of your friends’ houses. 

To your delight, after being there for less than an hour, your oldest friend had encouraged everyone to play blackjack, eager to see William’s skills in person. 

This had rapidly dissolved into everyone hunting for every single pack of cards in the house they could find (4) and watching in awe as William demonstrated how to count cards. 

He’d relaxed as everyone heaped on praises and voiced their amusement and awe. Despite how William politely shrugged and said, “Anyone can do it.” His little smile warmed your heart. How his shoulders relaxed a fraction, how he settled more comfortably into his seat. 

He’d been very good at the other board games as well, scheming quietly and chuckling softly at your friend’s jokes as he sat next to you. When it didn’t hamper playing the game, he held your pinky finger with his under the table.

As the night went on, you all dissolved into talking over a discarded game of Mine A Million on the coffee table. William had nodded off with his head on your shoulder around two am while you were both sitting on the sofa. By three his head was in your lap, your arm draped over him. 

At nearly four, you stroke his cheek gently. “William?” 

His breathing is slow and steady. 

You speak a little louder. “William? Hey, shall we go home?” 

He screws up his face a little as he starts to wake and sighs. “No.” 

“No?” You smile at his voice, it’s thick with sleep and far away. 

“You’re my home.” 

“What?” You chuckle. 

“You’re my home,” he stretches a little, but keeps his eyes closed as he snuffles into your legs. “I’m already home, I’m with you.” 

Thank you for reading!

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[edward-cabrini]

There was a very lovely post about wishing writers were financially and stable and able to keep writing and I thought it'd be neat to breakdown how viable being a full time writer is.

My books are sold for £12.33 which includes VAT. The cost of printing one book ai £4.84. The current royalty rate is %60. This means that per book sold I earn £2.56 before income tax.

So to have a stable income of £35,000 a year (before tax), I need to sell 13,672 books a year. For the rest of my life...

However, 13,672 books isn't unfeasible. I'm currently writing one book a year. I'm desperately trying to make it two or three a year, I fuckin' love my stories and I want them out in the world. Regardless, a new book each year means that if I can find my readers and they keep loving what I'm writing and buy my book, then I can be a financially stable artist. Which is my dream, I so so desperately don't want to go back to the corporate mines of the tech industry.

Now, that's paperback. I have also made my book for kindle & kindle unlimited. As an ebook I don't have a printing cost to cover. Not only that, but the royalty rate is currently 70%, which means: same content, less cost, more profit.

My ebooks are priced at £3.91, nearly a quarter of the paperback's price. Yet I make £2.70 per ebook sold/book fully read. A whole 14p extra.

Any version of my work you buy supports me and gets me one step closer to my dream.

Now... One last important detail. Fuck the capitalist dystopia we live in. Why do I have to pay wall my art? Well... farmers, butchers, and trawlers gotta eat too and theyvget money from me getting money to buy their stuff. That's the situation, it be like that, but that doesn't mean I have to pay wall my art.

Books should not only be accisble to those who can afford it. To that end, I have chosen not to enable the Digital Rights Management system for my ebooks. So, if you have a friend with a kindle they can copy the epub file and share it to you. No one can stop them. Someone somewhere has to buy the ebook to share it, that gets me my sandwich for the day, everyone else they know can get my books.

And just as a slight disclaimer for the sharing. I think enmass piracy, like if the file was put on a sharing site, that won't get you in trouble with me. God knows I love the thought of people loving my work so much they pirate it in their thousands. But unfortunately, Amazon might get a wee bit upset. You see, the sharing stops them raking in all the profit off my labour. They don't like that much.

So at the end of the day how viable is it to live as a full time writer not very. It's not to be attempted by the faint of heart, and some days are very hard. Interactions on posts and reviews, good or bad, mean everything. Anything to shift a few books and spread our little corner of art into the wider world. Anyway, I hope enjoyed the insights.

[fantasticfourthwingimagines]

Right There All Along Pairing - Ridoc Gamlyn x Reader Summary - You're enjoying listening to your friends have some fun by the river when Ridoc decides you're too far away from him. Word Count - 900+ Warnings - None! Pure Fluff.

In the background, you could hear the sound of your friends having a blast. Rambunctious laughter, clinking bottles, Sawyer, who had a surprisingly decent singing voice, and all perfectly slaughtered on alcohol. 

Not you though. After everything that had happened in your childhood, it wasn’t your thing. Still, you wanted to be close to them, to him, so instead you found yourself here, by the riverbank, watching the moon ripple across the surface of the water. 

Until someone plopped down beside you. 

“Hey.” 

You didn’t need to look. Your body always seemed to know when it was Ridoc. He somehow managed to make you relax and tense at the same time. Like your muscles sighed in relief knowing he was here, while your skin sparked with the hope that he might touch you. 

When he did, his shoulder brushing against yours, you turned to look at him. “Hi.” You said, trying not to grin too much. 

Ridoc looked like someone who had lost a mild fight with gravity. His wavy hair was sticking up in multiple directions, like he’d been raking his hands through it, and his shirt was half untucked. His eyes though, bright, mischievous, and a little glassy, were locked on you. 

He let out a long, dramatic sigh, and you had to bite back a giggle as he leaned over to put his head on your shoulder. “I missed you.” 

Your breath caught, just for a second. He said it like it was the most natural thing in the world, no idea what those words did to your heart. “I was like ten feet away, Rid.” You said, but your body betrayed you, curling even closer to his side like it had missed him too. 

“That’s eleven feet too far.” He mumbled.

 Your heart absolutely melted. 

Honestly, you agreed. If you could, you’d be plastered to this man’s side every moment of the day, but you didn’t want him to think you were clingy. “You’re ridiculous,” you said, with the most stupid, giddy smile on your face. 

“It’s pronounced Ridoc actually,” He said, moving away from your shoulder so he could give you a mock-scolding look, “and as my girl, you should know that.” 

Your whole body went still. 

My girl. 

You blinked at him, lips parting slightly. He’d never called you his girl before. Not like that. 

“Your girl?” You repeated, your heart starting to race. 

Ridoc paused, the grin slipping as he seemed to register what he said. His ears turned a little pink. “Well I mean there’s probably a better word for it . . . You’re more than my best friend. I feel like you’re just . . . mine.” 

His words shouldn’t have made sense, but somehow they did. They made all the sense in the world. Ridoc was way more than a best friend to you. He'd taught you how to breathe again. He'd taught you how to laugh even when the world felt impossible. He’d made you believe in yourself more than you ever thought possible. He was the bright sun coaxing you out of your darkness. In such a short time, he’d become everything to you. 

However, you couldn’t help but wonder how he felt. Did he see you the way you saw him, or were you another light in a constellation of people who loved him? “Are you mine?” You voice barely a whisper, coated in hope and insecurity. 

He said your name, smiling that crooked, heart wrenching smile as he reached up to brush a stray hair from your face. “I’ve been yours since the parapet. I’ve just been waiting for you to play catch up.” 

That long? He couldn’t have . . . But there was nothing in his eyes but sincerity (and a little bit of alcohol). “Ridoc,” you whispered his name, and all of the sudden, he was right there. So close that if you tilted your head your lips would brush. 

“I want to kiss you. And not because I’m drunk-” Ridoc said before you could say anything. “I want to kiss you because I’ve been dying too for months. Every time you look at me like that, like I’m worth something, it makes me want to lose my damn mind.” 

Your heart felt like it had dropped into your stomach. Butterflies flooded your chest as he looked down at your lips, and then back at your eyes. The heady scent of him, a warm breeze on a summer afternoon, orange and cyprus, flooded your senses, and your hands, seeming to have a mind of their own, found their way to the sides of his jacket, fisting the fabric like it was the only thing grounding you. “You can.” You whispered, breathless. “I want you too.” 

His nose bumped yours, soft and tentative, and your breath caught as your eyes fluttered shut - 

WHOOSH. 

Then there was a gust of wind, the beat of wings, and a cascade of cold water rained down on you both. 

“You dick!” Ridoc shouted, jerking to his feet. You jumped up to, grabbing his waist to steady him when he swayed. 

Above, Aotrom flew off with a delighted chortle. 

Ridoc jabbed a finger in the air after him. “I’m going to get you for this!”  

You started laughing, soaked and breathless, your heart still racing from the almost. “You do realize you two are the same person, right?” 

“I would never interrupt him when he was about to start making out with his dream girl!” Ridoc yelled after him, still glaring. 

This man was going to give you a complex if he didn’t stop with the compliments. “Oh we were about to start making out?” You teased, ignoring the second part of his statement. 

“We were.” Ridoc said, without missing a beat. “But hey, this just builds anticipation for the next time.” 

The smirk he gave you should have been illegal. 

You bit your lip, already imagining when the next time would be and praying to Dunne nothing would stop it.

[cheesesandwichsanto]

Detention

Summary: You and Eddie got detention together.

Warning: some curse words, reader is Jason’s sister.

Word Count: ~1.4k

A/N: English is not my first language. 🖤 I got inspired by this song:

If you enjoy the story; likes, reblogs and comments are really appreciated 🖤

Masterlist

Checkered Vans.

Black nails.

Red lipstick.

Black skinny jeans.

Band shirt.

Metal music.

That’s how people would describe you.

Or Eddie Munson.

Well, except for the nails and the lipstick.

And Eddie didn’t do eyeliner.

Finally, English class was over.

You hurried out as fast as you could for lunch break.

Your friend Sam told you they were serving pizza today, and you didn’t want to end up with one of those nasty slices with paprika on them.

“Miss Carver… Miss Carver…”

You heard Mrs. O’Donnell’s voice behind you.

How can she be so annoying and stubborn?

You rolled your eyes and turned around with a fake smile.

“Yes, Mrs. O’Donnell?” You said, sugary sweet

“You forgot your sketchbook in class.” She held up a totally worn-out notebook with monster drawings on the cover.

“Sketchbook?” you asked, brows furrowed.

“Uhm sorry, but that’s actually mine so…” Where did he come from all of a sudden?

“Mr. Munson. Of course it is yours. I should have known. Detention. Tomorrow, after school.” She handed him the book with a mean look and turned around to leave.

“Stupid bitch” Eddie mumbled under his breath.

Just as you started to walk away, his voice interrupted you.

“Hey Carver. Don’t you want to have your book back? I saw what you were drawing. Monsters ‘n shit. That one on the front is really cool. I got to say, I am impressed. You should come to Hellfire Club. You would like it. We meet up for DnD every Friday after school.” Just as you tried to grab your book, he yanked it above his head, out of reach.

“I’m not interested in joining your little nerdy club, but thanks for the compliment on my drawing of O’Donnell. Don’t you think I met her ugly face perfectly? And thanks for taking the detention for me, though.”

He handed over the book, smiling like a damn fool.

“Why the fuck are you grinning?” you asked, annoyed.

“Oh, nothing. Just excited to spend detention with you.”

“Miss Carver.” Fuck.

You didn’t even need to turn around to know who that voice belonged to.

“You can join Mr. Munson for detention tomorrow.”

The next day, after last period, you made your way to the detention room.

Let’s see who she invited to her witch coven.

You opened the door and were met with an empty classroom.

No other students, just that hag O’Donnell, sitting at the teacher’s desk.

And, of course, Eddie Munson.

As soon as he saw you, that stupid grin appeared on his face again.

“Hey sweetheart. We were already waiting for you.”

He was sitting in the first row.

Apparently, that hag made him to. He would never sit in first row willingly.

Just take a seat faaaaar away from him.

Last row.

Seat at the window.

That’s where I want to sit.

“Miss Carver. Take a seat in the front row.” Hell no.

At least there is one empty desk between him and me.

“Please do the worksheets that are already on your desk. When you’re done, open your book to page 94 and finish the exercises. I have to make some copies. Don’t do anything stupid.”

As soon as she exited the room, you heard him talking to you.

“Won’t you brother be disappointed you’re in detention with me?” He asked you mockingly.

“The fuck has Jason to do with anything, freak? Why am I always degraded as “the sister”? Everyone always compares me to him. I’m not him” You snapped, annoyed. A pissed-off look on your face.

Eddie looked a little bit surprised by your raised voice. He didn’t knew you felt that way.

He had always thought you were Jason’s precious sister, even though you looked like one of the “freaks”.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to offend you…” he said quietly.

You felt sorry for being so harsh to him.

Everyone asked themselves, why Jason put a target on Eddie Munson of all people.

Hard question.

Easy answer.

He saw, what others didn’t see.

Whenever he saw you and Eddie somewhere in the hallway, distance between you two, Eddie’s gaze on you lingered too long for his liking and Jason can’t have that.

You were a Carver.

He thought you deserved the best.

And Eddie wasn’t the best. At least, in Jason’s eyes.

He would never admit it, but he knew you and Eddie probably had a lot in common, but Jason didn’t want you to see it.

So, he and the other jocks made fun of him whenever they could.

“Problem solved”, according to Jason.

You took a deep breath and paused.

“I know what Jason and his friends are doing to you and your little nerds. And I want you to know that it’s not okay, and that I have told him more than once to stop…”

“I know, princess. I saw you yelling at him last week in the parking lot. He was not so happy about it. I mean, you and I are basically the same person, except for, you know …” He chuckled, then continued “Let’s change the subject. Why don’t you want to come to Hellfire Club? Just one time? Come oooon.” He rocked back in his chair.

“We are not the same person. Weirdly enough, that I am not saying this for the first time.”

“We totally are. The shirt you are wearing right now” he pointed at your black Dio shirt. “I’ve got the same one. And your shoes” now he pointed to your black and white checkered Vans “mine are black and gray.”

“Okay, maybe we have some things in common, but that still won’t make me going to your club.”

“Well, okay, but what about coming to a gig of my band? You will love our performance. We mostly do covers of Metallica, but, yeah…”

“Maybe… what do I get out of it?”

“Duh… VIP front row tickets at the trashiest bar in whole Indiana and…” he pulled something from his pocket “and this sketch, design made by me.” On the piece of paper was a drawing, a similar to the one of Mrs. O’Donnell in your sketchbook.

“Wow, that really impresses me, you are so charming, such a flirt, I almost dropped my panties.” your voice was dripping with sarcasm. Eddie laughed.

“But that sketch is dope. Even better than mine.” you admitted.

“You are a really cool girl, Carver. And it was badass how you were drawing O’Donnell in English, like you were a professional artist or something.”

“Wait. You were watching me during class?” you smirked. “Why are you so obsessed with me, Munson?”

“I…uhm..”

“Calm down. I’m just kidding. It’s cute that you were watching me, like, not creepy at all. I mean, you’re like, really pretty, and I am flattered”

“You think that I’m pretty?” he asked shyly. He couldn’t believe what you were saying.

“Yeah you are. I don’t get how no one sees it. Every girl here must be blind.”

“Well then, wanna go out on a date with me? We could go to the movies. I bet you love horror movies just as much as I do.”

“Sorry, I only date guys with …”

“Detention’s over. You can get home now, Miss Carver. Your brother is already waiting for you outside. Mr. Munson, I need to speak with you.”

You grabbed your stuff and headed to the door.

“See you, Eddie.”

That was the first time you used his real name, and he loved how it sounded when you said it.

“See you too, sweetheart.”

[pankowcrumbs]

The Babysitter X Will Poulter (Chapter 1)

MasterList

Will Poulter Masterlist

Chapter 1 Word Count: 11K

Plot: Will hires you to help out with his two twin boys as he is a single dad and you both fall in love along the way.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

I was two and a half days into unemployment when my phone pinged with a message from an unknown number.

Hey, Y/N. I’m Will a friend of Tom’s. He mentioned you’ve got a background in childcare? I’m in a bit of a situation and wondered if you’d be up for a chat about helping out with my two boys. It’d be paid, of course. Let me know if you’re free to talk?

I blinked at the screen, my half-eaten toast forgotten in my hand. Will… Poulter? As in that Will? Tall, ridiculously handsome, kind-eyed Will I’d met once at Tom’s birthday last year and had awkwardly told I liked his coat?

I reread the message, smiled despite myself, and quickly typed back.

Hi Will! Yes, Tom told me you’ve got twins, right? I’d be happy to help if I can want to talk more about what you’re after? I’m free most days now, so we can arrange something soon.

His reply came almost immediately.

Amazing. Was actually wondering would you be up for coming to mine this Saturday? Thought maybe we could take the boys to the zoo so you can meet them properly and I can fill you in on everything. Also less awkward than staring at each other in my kitchen for an hour?

I laughed out loud. Straight to the point. I liked that.

Zoo sounds perfect. Count me in.

Saturday morning rolled around faster than expected. I threw on a light jumper and jeans, tied my hair into a loose ponytail, and grabbed a notepad just in case I needed to jot anything down. I wasn’t sure how official this was meant to be, but my childcare instincts kicked in. Better to be prepared.

Will lived only fifteen minutes from me, and the second I pulled up outside his terraced house, the front door opened with a chaotic burst of energy.

Two identical little boys came tearing out onto the front path, both shouting something unintelligible about dinosaurs. Behind them, Will emerged, phone tucked into his back pocket, hair a bit windswept and wearing a warm smile that made my stomach flip.

“Y/N!” he called, waving me over.

“Will,” I grinned as I walked up. “You didn’t warn me I’d need a crash helmet.”

He laughed, reaching down to scoop one of the twins into his arms though the child wriggled immediately to be let back down.

“Yeah, they don’t really do calm introductions,” he said. “Right, boys this is Y/N. She might be helping Daddy out, so say hello, yeah?”

Both boys stood before me, side by side. One had a small patch of green paint on his jeans, the other held what looked suspiciously like a half-eaten sweet from the floor. Will cleared his throat and gave them a pointed look.

“This one,” he said, ruffling the hair of the boy on the left, “is Alfie. And that menace” he nodded at the other “is Jack.”

“I’m five and a half,” Jack announced proudly.

“I’m five and three-quarters,” Alfie added, nudging his brother.

“They’re twins,” Will muttered to me under his breath, “but you’d never believe it.”

I smiled down at them. “Well, it’s lovely to meet you both. Are you ready to see some animals?”

“Do they have crocodiles?” Jack asked instantly.

“Crocodiles, tigers, monkeys the lot.”

Alfie looked up at Will. “Can we get ice cream too?”

Will groaned playfully. “Let’s see how the day goes, yeah?”

The zoo was an instant hit. From the second we arrived, the boys darted from exhibit to exhibit with wide eyes and sticky fingers, asking every question imaginable.

“Why do flamingos stand on one leg?”

“Do gorillas eat pizza?”

“Can we ride the giraffes?”

Will was clearly used to the chaos, but even I could see the exhaustion behind his eyes. He was doing his best answering questions, holding little hands, pulling snacks from bags but I could see how stretched he was.

“I really appreciate you coming today,” he said quietly as the boys raced ahead toward the penguin enclosure. “I’ve been sort of… surviving, not thriving, you know?”

“I can imagine. Five-year-old twin boys that’s no small task.”

He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn’t plan on doing it all solo, but… here we are.”

I glanced over at him, sensing the weight in his tone. “How long’s it just been you and the boys?”

“A bit over two years,” he said, voice softer now. “Their mum’s… not in the picture. It’s just been us three. Don’t get me wrong, I love them more than anything, but I’m juggling work, auditions, school runs, dinners, baths, bedtime stories, and still trying to remember to buy milk…”

“You forgot the laundry,” I teased.

He groaned. “Don’t even start.”

We laughed, then paused as the boys came bounding back, both talking at once about the penguins they’d just seen.

“Can Y/N come again tomorrow?” Alfie asked, tugging at Will’s sleeve.

“Yeah! She’s better at animal noises than Daddy,” Jack added seriously.

Will gave me a mock-offended look. “I’ll have you know my lion roar is world-class.”

“Mm-hmm,” I teased. “Maybe we’ll compare later.”

Over lunch chips and juice at a zoo café Will finally got the chance to explain more about what he was looking for.

“So, I don’t need a full-time nanny or anything like that,” he said. “More someone who can help during after-school hours a few times a week. Maybe mornings on occasion too, if I get an early call time.”

I nodded, scribbling in my notebook. “Flexible hours. Got it.”

“And someone who’ll actually play with them, not just stick the telly on. They’re brilliant kids wild as hell, but brilliant and they need someone patient, creative, and good with snacks.”

“I’m excellent with snacks.”

He grinned. “Tom said you were great with kids. Honestly, the money’s good because I need someone good. I’ve tried a few different options nursery hours, temporary sitters but nothing’s really worked.”

“Well,” I said, smiling over at the boys who were now building a tower out of ketchup packets, “I think we’d get along just fine.”

Will looked at me then, really looked at me, and I felt something shift slightly in the air between us. Not romantic at least not yet but something warm. Trust. Relief, maybe.

“Thank you,” he said genuinely. “You’ve already made today feel lighter.”

I shrugged, trying not to let the compliment go straight to my cheeks. “It’s the zoo effect. Animals make everything better.”

“Or maybe it’s just you.”

Okay that one hit a bit harder.

I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, laughing nervously. “Careful, Will. That almost sounded like flirting.”

He looked momentarily panicked, then smirked. “Almost.”

By the end of the afternoon, both boys were thoroughly worn out, legs dragging and yawns getting louder. I helped Will buckle them into the car seats and handed over their half-finished animal-themed colouring books.

Will shut the car door and turned to me.

“Fancy a cuppa back at mine?” he asked. “They’ll be asleep within minutes.”

“Sure,” I said. “I’d love to go over a rough schedule with you anyway.”

True to his prediction, both boys were snoring gently by the time we pulled into Will’s driveway.

Inside, he made us tea while I sat at the kitchen table, admiring the dozens of child-drawn pictures plastered across the fridge.

“Alfie drew that giraffe,” he said, placing a mug beside me. “It looks more like a spotted dog, but he was proud.”

“I love it,” I smiled. “It’s real art.”

We sipped our drinks, and for a while, the house was quiet. Peaceful.

“I really can’t thank you enough,” he said again. “I didn’t realise how much I needed help until I actually had it for five minutes.”

“I get it,” I said gently. “You’ve been doing this on your own for so long, you probably forgot what it’s like to have a breather.”

He looked at me for a long beat, then nodded. “Exactly.”

We spent another hour going over possible routines, school pick-ups, dinner ideas, and backup plans for the inevitable tantrum days. Will was thorough but relaxed, clearly relieved to have someone who got it.

By the time I left, the boys were still sleeping, curled up together like puppies on the sofa.

Will walked me to the door, hands stuffed in his hoodie pockets.

“I’ll text you tomorrow with a few days to get started, yeah?”

“Sounds good,” I said, stepping out onto the front step.

He hesitated. “And… thanks again, Y/N. You really saved my sanity today.”

“Anytime, Will.”

As I walked back to my car, I glanced over my shoulder and found him still standing in the doorway, watching me with a soft look in his eyes.

Maybe this was just a job.

But something told me it might be the start of something a little more.

My first official day working with Will and the boys started on a Tuesday afternoon. School pick-up was at 3:15, and I arrived at Will’s place just before three, letting myself in with the spare key he’d given me the day before.

The house was surprisingly tidyimpressive considering it was home to two small whirlwinds. There were a few mismatched socks on the stairs and a juice cup perched precariously on the windowsill, but otherwise, everything had a lived-in charm. Cosy. Laughter-soaked.

A hand-written note sat on the kitchen counter:

Y/N, Thank you again. School address and ID pick-up card in the envelope. I’ve got filming till 7 today, but text me if the gremlins try to unionise. W.

I smiled, tucked the note in my bag, and headed out.

The boys’ school was a ten-minute walk, and by the time I got there, the playground was already swarming with kids in various stages of controlled chaos.

I spotted Alfie and Jack instantly both running in circles around a tree while one of the teachers looked on helplessly.

“Excuse me,” I said, stepping over a discarded PE bag, “I’m here to pick up Alfie and Jack Poulter.”

The teacher squinted at me. “You’re…?”

“Y/N. I’m their new childcare person. Will let the office know, I think?”

After a quick check of my ID and the little form from Will’s envelope, she smiled. “Ah, brilliant. Good luck.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Should I be worried?”

She just laughed.

The walk home took twice as long as the walk there.

Mostly because Alfie insisted on showing me “the wobbly pavement slab” that made a squelchy sound, and Jack made us stop to count snails. Twelve, for the record.

Back at the house, we dumped backpacks by the door and I set about offering snacks while they argued over who got the blue bowl. Crisis was narrowly avoided with a compromise: both would use green today. (Apparently, tomorrow was a different matter.)

While they munched on apple slices and cheese squares, I checked their homework folders.

“Do either of you need help with your reading tonight?”

“Nope,” Alfie said confidently.

“Yes,” Jack contradicted. “I don’t want to do it though.”

I stifled a laugh. “Fair enough. But we’ll have a go, yeah?”

They groaned in unison but didn’t protest too hard.

By the time 5pm rolled around, they’d done their reading (with some light bribery), built a very questionable-looking Lego dragon, and managed to spill yoghurt on the dog bed.

I texted Will a quick update:

All good here. Reading: done. Snacks: consumed. Minor yoghurt incident. No casualties. You’re winning at parenting.

He replied with a gif of someone fist-pumping and a simple:

Legend. Be back around 7. Let me know if you want me to bring dinner?

I stared at the message for a second longer than I needed to. Then replied:

Only if you’re getting chips.

This rhythm became our new normal.

A few days a week, I’d collect the boys after school, spend the afternoons wrangling them through homework, imaginative games involving pirate cats and rocket bins, and helping them wind down with a story or two before Will came home.

He was always grateful. Always kind. Sometimes tired to the point of forgetting his own name but always made time to check in with me before I left.

“You alright managing them today?” he’d ask, pulling off his coat and tossing it over the stair banister. “They didn’t tie you to the fence again?”

“Only emotionally,” I’d joke, and he’d laugh that big, warm laugh that made the house feel instantly lighter.

One Wednesday afternoon, as I cleaned dried paint off the kitchen tiles (thanks to an ambitious art project involving spaghetti), Alfie tugged on the hem of my jumper.

“Y/N?”

“Mm?”

“Are you going to live here forever?”

I paused, sponge in mid-air. “Why do you ask that, bub?”

Jack popped his head around the corner. “Because we like you more than Miss Karen. She smelled like old biscuits.”

“I’m not sure that’s a fair comparison,” I said, biting back a grin. “But no, I don’t live here. I just come to help out.”

Alfie looked thoughtful. “You could sleep on the sofa. We’d share our blankets.”

My heart did something strange and soft.

“I think your dad might have a thing or two to say about that.”

“He likes you too,” Jack announced, already halfway back into the lounge. “He smiles more now.”

I didn’t quite know what to say to that.

Will and I fell into an easy rhythm, too. We weren’t exactly friends not yet but we were teammates. Allies in the unpredictable trenches of small-child energy. And over time, I started to learn more about him.

That he drank his coffee black. That he kept a secret stash of jelly babies in his bedside drawer. That he worried constantly about whether he was doing enough for the boys, if they’d feel the lack of their mum, if his job meant he was missing too much.

One Friday evening, after the twins had fallen asleep mid-film popcorn everywhere, I stayed a little longer to help Will sort through a pile of school permission slips, junk mail, and drawings of what I think was a fire-breathing toaster.

“I seriously don’t know how you’ve done this all on your own,” I said, flipping through forms.

Will shrugged. “I don’t always do it well. But I do it.”

“You do it brilliantly, actually,” I said. “Your kids are funny, kind, so smart… that doesn’t just happen.”

He glanced at me, surprised. “Thanks. That means a lot, coming from someone who actually knows kids.”

“I’ve known them two weeks. They’ve already told me I’m not allowed to leave.”

He smiled then really smiled and for a moment I saw the weight he carried ease a little.

“You’ve been the best thing to happen to this house in a long time,” he said, voice quiet but steady. “I didn’t realise how much I needed help until I actually had it.”

I felt that same flicker in my chest again the one I’d felt at the zoo. Not romantic. Not yet. But something more than professional. A sort of comfort. A closeness.

“I’ll stick around as long as you need me,” I said honestly. “Though I may start charging double if Alfie keeps hiding bananas in my shoes.”

He laughed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Deal.”

By the third week, it felt less like I was stepping into someone else’s world and more like I belonged there, in a small way.

I knew which drawer the bandaids were in. Which cereal Jack liked best. That Alfie was scared of thunderstorms but pretended not to be.

I learned Will always kissed their foreheads before heading out even if they were mid-toothbrush.

And I realised how much I loved being a part of their day-to-day.

It wasn’t glamorous. It wasn’t quiet. But it was full of life.

Of bedtime giggles and snack negotiations and the kind of sleepy, unconditional trust only a child can offer.

It was a quiet Thursday afternoon, and the boys were elbow-deep in glitter and glue at the kitchen table, sticking googly eyes onto paper crowns. Alfie had already glued his to his hair by accident, and Jack was determined to create “the most royal hat in the whole of the universe.”

Will walked in, fresh from work, tie half-off, hair slightly wind-swept from the day.

“You look like you’ve just been interviewed by a hurricane,” I said with a small grin, sliding him a mug of coffee.

“Feel like it, too. Thanks.” He took a sip, then looked over at the boys. “Alright, Kings of Chaos?”

“LOOK AT MY CROWN,” Jack shouted, arms up, glue dripping from his fingertips.

Will raised an eyebrow at me. “I take it the arts and crafts section of the day went well?”

“Depends how you define ‘well’,” I replied. “One of them might have invented a new form of glue-based weaponry.”

He chuckled, then reached for the post left on the counter. As he flicked through it, he pulled out a crumpled piece of paper and glanced at it for a second before handing it to me.

“Speaking of chaos,” he said, “this came in their bags.”

I smoothed the paper. It was an invitation well, more of a loud, glittery announcement for the school’s upcoming Spring Fun Fair.

Friday, 5:30pm, School Hall and Grounds. Games, food, stalls, and a talent show! Families welcome.

“Oh, they mentioned something about this the other day. Jack wants to try the tombola. Alfie said he’s going to ‘win the cake competition even if he has to eat all of it himself’.”

Will groaned softly, rubbing a hand down his face. “I was going to try and get out of it. Got a meeting earlier in the day, and I thought maybe I could convince them to skip it…”

The boys heard that. Immediately, the protesting began.

“NOOOOOOO.”

“But we HAVE to go!”

“I want to throw sponges at the teachers again!”

“I want the green cupcake from last year!”

I tried not to laugh at the panic on Will’s face as they both charged towards him, full toddler-force.

He held up his hands. “Alright! We’ll go, we’ll go!”

Then, to me, a little more quietly, “Would you… maybe come with us?”

I blinked. “To the fair?”

He nodded. “If you’re free. You don’t have to, obviously, but it might help, having another adult there. You know how they get.”

“I do,” I said, glancing at the boys, now climbing onto each other’s backs. “Yeah, of course. I’d love to.”

His shoulders visibly relaxed. “Thanks, Y/N. Seriously.”

Friday arrived with blue skies and just enough warmth to justify leaving your coat at home. The school gates were crowded, packed with parents, balloons, and the smell of sugar and hot dogs.

The boys were beside themselves with excitement. They each had a small envelope of pocket money from Will and a stern warning not to spend it all on slime.

“Are we meeting your dad at the cupcake stall?” I asked Alfie as we navigated through the chaos.

“NO!” Jack interrupted. “He’s getting the raffle tickets! Daddy wants to win the wine!”

I snorted. “He told you that, did he?”

“No, but we heard him say he’s going to hide it from Auntie Lou.”

Sure enough, Will appeared a few minutes later, already juggling a school map, two juice pouches, and a rapidly melting ice lolly.

“Right,” he said, out of breath. “Plan of attack?”

I took one juice pouch and smiled. “We divide and conquer. You take Jack to the sponge-throwing. I’ll take Alfie to the cupcakes.”

“Deal.”

The next hour passed in a blur of sticky fingers, painted faces, and loud music. Jack successfully threw a sponge directly at his Year 1 teacher, and Alfie ended up with green icing all over his shirt.

I met Will again by the tombola table. He was holding a half-deflated balloon sword and looked like he’d aged five years.

“I forgot what these things were like,” he said, passing me a paper plate of chips.

“Overwhelming?”

“Loud. Messy. Kind of brilliant.”

I nodded, watching Jack attempt to negotiate extra sweets from the tuck shop lady.

“You’re doing alright, you know,” I said, nudging him gently. “They’re having a great time.”

He looked at me then, really looked. There was something in his eyes relief, maybe. Or gratitude. Or just the tired kind of fondness that came from feeling supported for the first time in a while.

“Couldn’t do it without you,” he said.

I didn’t know how to reply to that. Not without it sounding like something more than it was.

So I just smiled. “Let’s not tell Alfie the raffle prize isn’t actually a green cupcake, yeah?”

Later that evening, the boys were high on sugar and completely wiped out. Jack fell asleep halfway through brushing his teeth. Alfie made it to his bed but demanded that his crown be placed “on the pillow next to me in case I dream about ruling the galaxy.”

Will and I sat on the sofa in the quiet that followed. The fair had left its mark on our shoes, our clothes, and the glitter now permanently embedded in the carpet.

“Thanks again for coming,” he said after a moment. “I know it’s not in your job description.”

“You’re joking, right? This was one of the most entertaining nights I’ve had in ages. Plus, I got to see Mrs Cartwright pelted with a water balloon. Worth it.”

He laughed, head falling back against the cushion. “You fit in so well with them. It’s… it’s a bit surreal, actually.”

“Surreal?”

“Yeah. I think I forgot what it’s like to have someone else care about them like this. It’s been just me for so long. You showing up when you did… it made a big difference.”

I felt something shift then. Nothing huge or dramatic. Just a quiet, shared understanding between two people trying to make it through the mess of parenting biological or otherwise.

“Thanks, Will,” I said softly. “That means a lot.”

He offered a tired smile. “You staying for a cuppa?”

I stood, stretching. “Nah, I should head off. Before I’m roped into building a glitter rocket in the morning.”

He laughed, walking me to the door. “Same time Monday?”

“Wouldn’t miss it.”

As I stepped into the evening air, I glanced back at the house. Light spilled out from the living room window, warm and familiar. Somewhere upstairs, I could hear the soft sound of Alfie talking in his sleep.

It wasn’t my family. Not technically.

But it was starting to feel like something close.

It was just after 6:30am when my phone rang.

At first, I ignored it, half-asleep, assuming it was some spam call or an accidental pocket dial. But when it started again almost immediately, vibrating on the bedside table like it had something urgent to say, I blinked my eyes open and reached for it.

Will’s name flashed across the screen.

My heart skipped a beat.

“Will?” I croaked, still slightly tangled in my duvet. “Is everything alright?”

“Oh God Y/N, I’m so sorry for calling so early,” he said, voice tight with stress. “I wouldn’t unless it was important, I promise. I just.. I don’t know what to do.”

I sat up straighter. “What’s happened?”

“There’s been a last-minute reshoot. Something went wrong with a scene last month and the director’s only just called he wants us on set by nine. I have to be there. I’ve tried everyone my parents are in Devon, my sister’s at some yoga retreat in Cornwall, and...” His breath caught. “Alfie’s come down with something. He’s been throwing up since about four. He’s burning up.”

“Oh, Will…”

“I can’t leave him like this. But if I don’t show, I’m letting the whole crew down. I’m just...bloody hell, I’m a mess.”

“Will,” I said gently, trying to steady his spiral, “listen to me. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

“You don’t have to...”

“Of course I do. You don’t need to apologise. I’m more than happy to come and help.”

He went quiet on the other end for a moment, and then I heard a sigh of pure relief.

“Thank you. Really. Thank you.”

“Just focus on getting yourself together. I’ll be there before you know it.”

I threw on joggers and a hoodie, pulled my hair into a haphazard bun, and grabbed a tote bag. I tossed in some essentials calpol, a digital thermometer, a couple of storybooks I knew the boys liked, and a packet of ginger biscuits just in case Alfie could keep anything down later.

The streets were still quiet as I drove. The sky was a dull grey, threatening rain, and I caught myself wondering how long Will must’ve been pacing the house with a sick child and rising panic.

He answered the door in a rush, hair unbrushed, hoodie zipped up wrong. There were dark circles under his eyes, and he looked completely worn out.

“Hey,” I said softly. “Breathe. It’s alright.”

“Y/N…” he started, then faltered. “You’re a literal angel. I can’t believe you came this fast.”

I stepped inside and slipped off my shoes. “How’s Alfie?”

“He’s curled up on the sofa now. Still really warm. Jack’s being an absolute star, trying to play doctor with him, but I can tell he’s worried.”

“Alright. You go. I’ll take it from here.”

Will looked at me like he didn’t quite believe I meant it. “Are you sure?”

“Go,” I said, giving him a little push toward the hallway. “He needs you on set. Alfie’s got me.”

He nodded, then hovered for another second. “If he gets worse, call me. I don’t care if it interrupts filming. And Jack if he gets cheeky, tell him I said no biscuits after breakfast.”

“Understood.”

Just as he reached the door, he turned back. “Thank you, Y/N. I owe you one.”

“You owe me nothing. Drive safe.”

The door clicked shut behind him, and the house went quiet, save for the soft hum of the heater and the low murmur of cartoons from the living room.

I padded through and found the boys on the couch Jack sitting upright with a plastic stethoscope around his neck, and Alfie curled into a ball under a fuzzy blanket.

“Hey, you two,” I said gently, crouching beside the sofa. “Heard we’ve had a bit of a rough night.”

Jack nodded seriously. “He spewed three times. I counted.”

“Thanks for the report, Doctor Jack,” I said, ruffling his hair.

Alfie opened one eye and let out a faint, “Hi, Y/N…”

“Hey, sweetheart,” I said, brushing a hand across his forehead. He was warm. Not dangerously so, but enough to warrant a watchful eye. “Do you want some water?”

He shook his head and snuggled deeper into the blanket.

“Alright. Just rest for now. I’ve brought some books and a snuggly hot water bottle if you want it.”

Jack offered to “make the hot water” before I gently guided him away from the kettle. We settled for warm squash instead and a round of Where’s Wally while Alfie drifted in and out of sleep next to us.

The morning passed slowly but sweetly. Jack eventually built a Lego castle that he insisted was “a recovery base” for Alfie, who smiled weakly and whispered, “You’re weird,” with a fond sort of affection.

I kept checking Alfie’s temperature, making sure he was sipping water here and there, and when he finally asked for a plain digestive biscuit, I took it as a tiny victory.

By midday, the rain was still falling in a soft drizzle. Jack had settled in with a jigsaw puzzle on the kitchen floor, humming to himself and occasionally announcing how many pieces he had left. Alfie had been asleep on the sofa for over an hour. I checked on him quietly, not wanting to wake him but something in my gut tugged uncomfortably.

His cheeks were flushed a deep red, his hair plastered to his forehead with sweat.

I leaned down, brushing my hand gently against his skin.

Burning.

Much hotter than before.

“Alfie,” I said softly, crouching beside him. “Sweetheart, can you open your eyes for me?”

He stirred, eyes fluttering open slowly. “Hmm?”

“Hey, you’re alright. Just checking on you. You feel a bit warm.”

“My head hurts,” he mumbled.

I reached for the thermometer and pressed it gently against his temple.

39.7°C.

Too high.

“Okay, love, I’m going to give you some more medicine,” I said, keeping my voice calm even though worry had already started knotting in my chest. “Let’s try and get this temperature down, yeah?”

He gave the faintest nod as I helped him sit up and handed him a small dose of liquid paracetamol, coaxing him to drink slowly. After he was settled back with a damp flannel on his forehead, I sat beside him, watching the numbers on the thermometer clock tick on in my mind.

Fifteen minutes passed. Then thirty.

Still flushed. Still hot to the touch.

He shifted again and let out a soft whimper, pressing a hand to the side of his head.

“Ow…”

“What is it, Alfie?”

“My ear. It really hurts. Like… loads.”

I swallowed hard. A headache and a sore ear combined with a fever that high not a great sign. Ear infections could get nasty quickly, especially in little ones. And this wasn’t a just-ride-it-out situation anymore.

I reached for my phone and dialled Will immediately.

It rang. And rang. Then went to voicemail.

“Hi, it’s Y/N. Sorry to call you mid-shoot, but Alfie’s fever isn’t going down and he’s saying his ear really hurts now I think it’s best I take him to the hospital, just to be safe. I’ll take care of everything, don’t worry. Just call me as soon as you can.”

I hung up, hesitated, then tried again.

Voicemail again.

“Hi, it’s me again just a quick update, I’m going to head to A&E with Alfie now. He’s awake but really uncomfortable. I’ll keep you posted. Don’t worry, I’ve got Jack with me too.”

Still nothing.

I fired off a text:

Alfie’s temp isn’t dropping and he’s now got pain in his ear. I’m taking him to hospital. Tried calling. Please ring me when you can.

Then I looked at the two boys Jack still puzzling away, completely unaware of the shift in tone, and Alfie curled up and clearly miserable.

I had to move. Now.

I packed up the essentials quickly Alfie’s coat, a change of clothes, some water, a few snacks for Jack, their NHS cards from the kitchen drawer, and one of their favourite books just in case we had to wait a while.

I hoisted Alfie into my arms, cradling his head carefully against my shoulder. He whimpered again, little arms curling round my neck.

“I’ve got you, darling. You’re alright.”

“Y/N…” Jack looked up, concerned. “Where are we going?”

“We’re just going to the doctor, okay? Alfie needs a quick check-up. You’re coming too.”

“Is he gonna be okay?”

“Yes,” I said firmly. “But we’re not waiting for things to get worse.”

With one arm around Alfie and the other guiding Jack towards the door, I shot one final glance at my phone screen.

Still no reply from Will.

I slipped it into my coat pocket and stepped out into the grey afternoon.

The hospital waiting room was quieter than I expected for a Saturday, but still held that unmistakable sterile buzz the hum of fluorescent lights, the distant bleep of monitors, the shuffle of nurses' feet against linoleum floors.

Alfie was cradled in my arms, warm and clingy, his face buried into my cardigan. Jack sat beside me in the oversized chair, swinging his legs as he watched the rain streak down the windows like silver threads.

Thankfully, because of Alfie’s age and his high fever, we were seen rather quickly. A kind nurse ushered us into a children’s assessment room, where a doctor came in not long after. Alfie was brave but tearful, curling even closer to me as they checked his ears and throat.

"Classic ear infection," the doctor confirmed, gently. "Left ear looks painful. We’ll get him some medication to bring the fever down, and antibiotics for the infection."

I nodded, feeling a slow wave of relief wash over me. "Is it okay to take him home later?"

"Yes, once his temperature’s under control and he’s more settled. But you did the right thing bringing him in."

I gave Alfie a small smile and squeezed his hand. “Hear that? You’re going to feel better soon, love.”

His response was a weak nod, then his other hand crept up to latch onto my pinky finger.

"Don't let go, please," he whispered.

"Never," I promised.

We stayed like that for what felt like hours. Jack kept busy, hopping between the toy box and the window, counting the number of red cars he saw pass through the rain.

“That’s seven!” he called suddenly.

“Seven red cars?”

He nodded proudly. “Eight, now. Nine!”

I gave him a thumbs up, though I was checking my phone again third time in ten minutes. Still no reply from Will. My texts were marked as delivered, but nothing more. I wasn’t angry, just… anxious. I knew how seriously he took work, how much pressure there was when they called him in suddenly like this. But he’d want to know Alfie was okay.

A nurse came in and offered juice and a few plain crackers for the boys. Jack accepted with all the enthusiasm of a five-year-old who thought hospitals were a cool new adventure. Alfie just clung tighter to my arm.

"My ear still hurts," he murmured, eyes glossy.

"I know, baby. But the medicine’s working now. Soon it’ll feel lots better, I promise."

He nodded again, then shifted closer until his forehead was pressed against my chest. My heart ached for him. It was always hard seeing kids unwell but when you spend every weekday with them, helping them brush their teeth, fixing their lunch, kissing scraped knees… it becomes personal.

I glanced at my phone again. Nothing.

Jack’s voice rang out, suddenly sharper than before. "That’s Daddy!"

My head snapped up. “What?”

He was pressed against the glass, eyes wide. “There! Daddy! That’s him!”

I leapt up, careful not to disturb Alfie too much, and moved to the window beside Jack. Through the heavy sheets of rain, I spotted a familiar figure sprinting across the car park coatless, soaked, moving fast.

Will.

He was dripping, hair flattened to his forehead, panic etched across his face as he rushed towards the hospital entrance. My heart twisted. He looked frantic.

I turned back to the nurse on duty. “Can you keep an eye on the boys for just a minute? Their dad’s just arrived I’ll be right back.”

“Of course, love. They’re alright here with me.”

“Thank you.”

I rushed out into the corridor, half-running, weaving through the automatic doors that whooshed open to the outside. The cold slapped me immediately icy rain soaking into my sleeves, my trainers squeaking on the pavement. But I barely noticed it.

“Will!”

His head whipped round just before he reached the sliding doors. The second he saw me, relief flooded his features, and he broke into a shaky run.

“Y/N” he started, but I met him halfway, not thinking twice before flinging my arms around his soaked shoulders.

He hugged me tight tighter than I expected like he was anchoring himself. Rain dripped from his chin, his chest heaving.

“I’m so sorry,” he gasped. “I’m so, so sorry. I was in the middle of a take, they wouldn’t let me have my phone on set. I didn’t even know until I wrapped the scene bloody hell, is he okay? Is Alfie alright?”

“He’s okay,” I said quickly, stepping back just enough to see his face. “Really. He’s resting. They’ve given him medicine, his fever’s starting to come down now. It’s an ear infection.”

Will exhaled hard, pressing the heel of his palm over his eyes. “God, I was terrified. I ran out the second they said I was clear. I didn’t even wait for my bloody coat.”

“You did the right thing, Will. It’s okay now.”

He was shivering from the rain, but didn’t seem to notice. “You brought him in. Thank you. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

I gave him a soft smile. “You’d do exactly what you’re doing now. You’d run through a thunderstorm for your boy.”

He let out a breathy laugh, half-choked. “I feel awful. I hate that I wasn’t there.”

“You are now,” I said, placing a hand on his arm. “Come inside. Alfie’s been asking for cuddles and Jack’s about three red cars away from starting a rain commentary podcast.”

Will smiled at that, wiping at his soaked forehead as we hurried inside. The warmth of the hospital lobby was immediate, and I could already feel my cardigan sticking to me uncomfortably.

As we approached the paediatric wing, Will paused for a moment outside the door, squaring his shoulders.

“You ready?” I asked gently.

He nodded, jaw tight. “Yeah. Let me see my boys.”

The automatic door whispered open with a quiet swish, and Will stepped into the paediatric assessment room, shoulders hunched, damp hair curling at the ends. The moment he entered, Alfie stirred in the bed his bleary eyes darting up from the blanket he was tucked into.

“Daddy?” His voice was scratchy, small, but there was no mistaking the flicker of recognition and then relief that passed over his face.

Will barely had time to take two steps before Alfie’s arms were reaching up, fingers outstretched.

“Oh, mate…” Will’s voice cracked as he dropped his bag, moving straight to the bedside and kneeling down beside it. “Hi, my boy.”

Alfie scrambled to sit up, unsteady and still flushed, but desperate to be close. Will gathered him gently, holding him to his chest like he was made of glass.

“I’m here, Alfie. I’m here now. I’m so sorry I wasn’t before,” he whispered, tucking his chin over the top of Alfie’s head. “I came as fast as I could.”

Alfie’s little fingers curled into Will’s hoodie. “My ear hurts,” he mumbled.

“I know, mate. I know. But you’re being so brave. Y/N told me everything. You did really well.”

I stayed back, giving them the moment. Jack, still perched near the window, had turned his attention from the rain to watch them. His expression was calm now, settled. Whatever unease he’d felt while Will was missing had lifted the second his dad stepped into the room.

Will glanced over at me as he rocked slightly with Alfie in his arms. “Thank you… for getting him here. For everything.”

“You don’t have to keep thanking me,” I said softly, offering a small smile. “You’d have done the same.”

“Still.” He kissed the top of Alfie’s head and breathed in deep. “I don’t take it lightly.”

The nurse returned a moment later to check on Alfie’s temperature again. Will gently shifted so she could reach him, keeping a steadying hand on Alfie’s back.

“Good news,” she said with a warm smile. “His fever’s finally coming down nicely. Looks like the medicine’s doing the trick.”

Alfie leaned more into Will, his voice barely above a whisper. “I want to go home.”

The nurse nodded kindly. “You’ll be able to, soon as the discharge notes are done. I’ll just check with the doctor, and we’ll get you sorted, alright?”

Alfie gave a tired nod. Will looked up at me with an expression I couldn’t quite name something between gratitude and weariness.

“Do you want me to call a taxi?” I offered.

He shook his head. “No, no. I drove here like a maniac somehow remembered to park it straight. We’ll be fine, I’ll carry him.”

Jack came over to the bed and tugged gently on my sleeve. “Can Alfie sleep in the car?”

“I think that’s a great idea,” I said with a grin. “You can keep an eye on him, can’t you?”

Jack puffed his chest a little. “I’m good at that.”

The nurse returned after a few minutes, clipboard in hand. “Alright, everything looks fine. We’ll send the antibiotics home with you, and give you a dosage chart. If his fever spikes again or his ear pain worsens, don’t hesitate to come back.”

Will stood with Alfie carefully cradled in his arms. “Thank you. Honestly.”

Jack grabbed his dad’s hand on the way out. I followed behind, carrying Alfie’s blanket and the hospital leaflet they’d handed me. The rain had softened to a drizzle by now, the air cool and misty as we crossed to the car.

By the time Will was buckling Alfie into his seat, the little one was already drifting off again. Jack climbed in next to him, resting his cheek on his brother’s shoulder with that natural sibling instinct to protect without needing to say much.

Will shut the door softly and turned to me.

“You okay getting home from here?” he asked. “I can drop you if you need.”

“I’m fine,” I said. “I drove as well, cars not too far from here"

He hesitated for a moment, then rubbed the back of his neck. “Still… I feel wrong just letting you leave after all that.”

I smiled at him. “You’re doing what a good dad does, Will. You’re here now. That’s what matters.”

He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something else then closed it again and nodded. “Let me at least walk you to your car"

We made our way in silence. Comfortable silence. The kind that settles between people who’ve faced something a little bigger than themselves and made it through. Not dramatic. Just honest. Real.

a few minutes later we were at my car and I turned to him. His hoodie was still damp, but his shoulders looked lighter.

“You handled today better than you think,” I said.

“I felt like I was drowning in panic,” he admitted. “When I saw your messages and realised I hadn’t been there…”

“You were filming. It wasn’t negligence, Will. And Alfie is alright. Jack too.”

He gave me a look searching, maybe.

“Still. I don’t know how to say thank you enough.”

“You’ve said it,” I said. “Now go home and get some rest. And cuddle your boys. They need you.”

He nodded slowly. “I will.”

And then, before he turned away, he touched my arm. Just lightly. A squeeze, nothing more. But warm. Familiar. Grateful.

“Night, Y/N.”

“Night, Will.”

It was just after half nine when my phone buzzed.

I was still in pyjamas, a tea slowly cooling beside me, curled up in the nook of my sofa with the quiet hum of the morning news in the background. I’d been debating whether or not it was too much to text Will first just to check in, see how Alfie was doing. But I didn’t want to hover. He had enough to manage.

The buzz startled me. I reached over and smiled as I read his name.

Hey. Just wanted to say thanks again for yesterday. I owe you everything. The boys are all tucked up, and all okay now.

Attached was a photo blurry, a little grainy, clearly taken in low light. But it showed Alfie and Jack curled up in Will’s bed, nestled close to each other under a navy duvet covered in dinosaurs. Alfie had a cold flannel across his forehead, his face pale but peaceful. Jack had his arm flung over his brother’s tummy protectively, his other hand curled under his chin.

I stared at it longer than I meant to.

My thumbs hovered above the keyboard, paused. And then I replied:

You don’t owe me anything. I’m just glad he’s alright. That picture nearly broke me, by the way. They’re the sweetest. ❤️

A few seconds later, three dots appeared. Typing.

They asked for you this morning, by the way. Alfie said you were better than the hospital nurse. Jack wanted to know if you were coming back today.

I laughed, sitting up straighter, heart a little warm at the thought.

Only if there’s no risk of me being roped into an intense game of Lego again.

No promises.

I hesitated, then typed the thought that had been growing in the back of my mind since I woke.

I was thinking of making some soup later. Chicken, with loads of veg. Good for sore ears and quiet Sundays. Could drop some by?

I waited, wondering if I’d overstepped.

That would honestly mean the world. We’ve got no food in. Was too knackered to cook last night. Just toast and juice.

Alright. Give me an hour or so. I’ll knock. 😊

I tied my hair up, put on something soft and warm jeans, a knitted jumper and let the kettle boil while I chopped. Soup was second nature for me. A throw-everything-in kind of thing. Onion, garlic, carrots, celery, potato, chicken stock. I added a little turmeric for warmth, thyme for comfort. Something that smelled like home.

By midday, I was knocking gently on Will’s door with a Tupperware of soup, some crusty bread from the bakery, and a bottle of fresh orange juice tucked under my arm.

Will opened the door in a black hoodie and joggers. His hair was mussed like he’d just rolled out of bed again. He blinked in surprise, and then smiled, a bit sheepishly.

“You actually came,” he said, stepping aside to let me in.

“You sound surprised.”

“I half-thought the soup offer was a polite brush-off.”

I handed him the bag. “You’ve clearly not seen how seriously I take soup.”

He grinned and gave a small nod. “Duly noted.”

The house was quiet, just the soft rumble of a children’s programme coming from the living room. I followed the sound to find Jack curled up on the rug with a blanket over his shoulders and a dozen crayons spread across the coffee table. Alfie was on the sofa under three blankets, sipping water from a plastic cup with a curly straw.

“Y/N!” Jack jumped up, wide-eyed. “You came!”

I knelt down and opened my arms. He barrelled into me without hesitation.

Alfie waved from the couch, his little face lighting up. “Hi.”

“Hi, trouble. Feeling a bit better?”

He nodded shyly. “My ear’s not as hurty.”

“That’s good. I brought soup. Bet your tummy could use something warm.”

Will walked in and set the bag down in the kitchen. “Right, shall I dish some out?”

“I can do it,” I offered, already moving to find the bowls. “You sit with them.”

He hesitated, but then gave a grateful smile and lowered himself down next to Alfie on the sofa, gently rubbing his back.

I dished out soup, sliced the bread, and brought everything over on a tray. The boys dug in, Jack chatting between mouthfuls about a cartoon I didn’t recognise, Alfie content to listen and chew slowly.

Will watched the scene quietly his fingers curled around his own bowl, his expression soft.

“This is exactly what we needed,” he murmured after a while. “You’ve saved us. Again.”

I shook my head. “It’s just soup, Will.”

“It’s not. You didn’t have to come today.”

“I wanted to.”

He looked at me then. Really looked. And then, like he was afraid of holding it too long, turned his attention back to the boys.

When lunch was done, Jack insisted I stay to help build “the tallest block tower in the world” while Alfie rested his head on Will’s lap. Will played with Jack for a bit, then left us to it while he checked the washing and fetched Alfie’s medication.

The whole afternoon felt slower. Warmer. Familiar in a way I hadn’t expected. Like the rhythm of something that had found a gentle place in the everyday.

By late afternoon, Jack was yawning mid-sentence and Alfie had fallen asleep again. Will lifted him carefully and carried him upstairs, and I helped Jack with brushing his teeth and getting changed into pyjamas even though the sun hadn’t properly set yet.

When Will came back down, his hoodie was dusted with flour I realised he must’ve started the laundry after all and he rubbed his eyes, exhausted.

“They’re both asleep,” he said. “Out cold.”

I gathered my things. “I’ll get out of your way.”

“You don’t have to rush.”

“I should let you rest.”

He nodded slowly, walking me to the door.

“You’ve been incredible this weekend,” he said, leaning against the frame.

“I’ve just… helped. You’d have done the same.”

He gave a soft laugh. “Maybe. But not with soup this good.”

I smiled at him. “Text me if anything changes with Alfie tonight, alright?”

“I will. Promise.”

I stepped out into the cool air. Before I left, he called after me.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

He looked at me like he wasn’t sure what he was about to say. Then just: “Thanks. For being exactly who you are.”

My chest ached in a funny, quiet way. I nodded once, then turned and walked down the steps, the sound of the door gently clicking shut behind me.

Two months passed like a blink.

Spring had edged into early summer the sort of warm that made you roll your sleeves up without thinking, with that constant buzz in the air of school fetes and weekend markets. The boys were taller somehow. Or maybe just louder.

I’d fallen into a rhythm with them. Will, too. I still wasn’t sure what exactly we were not a couple, not quite just friends, or employer/employee but we moved around each other easily now. I spent most Fridays at theirs after school pickup, sometimes Saturdays too. I knew where the glasses were, how Alfie liked his toast cut, how Jack hated anything with sauce on it.

That Thursday the house was chaos in the best way.

“We’re going camping!” Jack shouted as soon as I stepped inside, dropping his backpack with a loud thud in the hall.

Alfie barrelled in behind him, tripping slightly over his untied laces. “In the forest! With a river! And marshmallows!”

“Sounds like you’re off on an adventure,” I said, smiling as I hung my keys on the hook by the door.

“Daddy’s taking us. We’re going in the big green tent!”

“Do you even like camping?” I asked, glancing at Jack.

He made a face. “I like the fire and the food. Not the bugs.”

Fair enough.

They followed me into the kitchen, where I put the kettle on, as was tradition. They crowded the counter, rummaging through cupboards for biscuits while telling me all about the place they were going somewhere not too far, but with trees tall enough to hide in and a lake you could paddle in if you were brave.

“We’re leaving after lunch tomorrow,” Alfie said. “So we can get there before it gets dark.”

“You’ve packed, right?” I asked, raising a brow.

Jack grinned. “We’re doing it tonight. Daddy promised.”

The front door clicked open not long after. Will’s voice echoed down the hallway.

“Alright, I’m home where is everyone?”

“In the kitchen!” Jack called back.

Will stepped in, tugging off his jacket and smiling when he saw me. “Hey.”

“Hey yourself.”

“You been grilled about the camping trip yet?” he asked, dropping his keys onto the bench and moving to the fridge.

“They’ve given me a very detailed run-through, yes,” I said. “I feel thoroughly briefed.”

He laughed and started pulling ingredients out. “Thought I’d do pasta tonight.”

“I’ll leave you to it,” I said, brushing my hands off on a tea towel. “I should get going anyway”

“You don’t have to.”

I paused. “Hm?”

He glanced up from where he was grabbing a saucepan. “You could stay. For dinner, I mean. If you’re not in a rush.”

I blinked, surprised by how casual and hopeful he sounded.

“Sure,” I said, slowly. “I can stay.”

The boys cheered like I’d just agreed to go to Disneyland.

“Y/N, can you please come camping with us?” Jack said out of absolutely nowhere.

I choked on a laugh. “What?”

“Please? Please please please,” Alfie echoed. “You can have the bed bit and we can sleep on the squishy mats!”

Will turned slowly from the stove, wooden spoon in hand, looking caught off-guard. “Uh…”

“I thought it was a boys’ trip,” I teased.

“Yeah, but it’d be better if you came,” Jack said confidently. “You make the best marshmallows and Alfie says you’re really good at bugs.”

“I said she wasn’t scared of bugs,” Alfie corrected.

“Same thing!”

Will chuckled, scratching the back of his neck, clearly trying to find a way to not say absolutely not in front of them.

“I’m sure Y/N’s got plans,” he started.

“Not really,” I admitted. “But I wouldn’t want to impose.”

Will looked at me for a moment, weighing something invisible in his mind.

“I mean… you could come. If you’d like to,” he said, slower this time. “It might actually be nice. Bit of adult company. I won’t have to argue with Jack about whether we need to boil the pasta in lake water.”

“One time!” Jack yelled from the living room.

I smiled. “Are you sure?”

He nodded. “Yeah. We’ve got enough room. The tent’s huge. I was mostly worried you’d hate it.”

“I don’t mind camping,” I said. “Especially when I’m promised marshmallows and boiled lake pasta.”

Will’s face relaxed into a grin. “Alright then.”

Alfie clapped. “She’s coming!”

Jack ran through the hallway in a lap of victory.

I leaned against the counter, watching Will stir the pot, something soft and warm blooming in my chest.

It wasn’t a grand gesture. It wasn’t romantic in the typical sense.

But it felt like something.

“I swear if one of you throws another grape, we’re turning around,” Will said from the driver’s seat, reaching blindly into the back as another grape bounced off his shoulder.

“Jack started it!” Alfie shouted.

“Did not!”

I bit back a laugh and leaned over the middle seat, catching a rogue grape before it rolled under the pedals. “Alright, that’s it. Grape privileges are revoked.”

A collective groan followed.

“Traitor,” Jack muttered.

“I heard that,” I said, smiling as I sat back properly and offered Will a mint. He took it with a grateful glance, our fingers brushing briefly.

“Thanks,” he said, popping it in his mouth.

The windows were down halfway. The air was warm, fragrant with summer grass and petrol. The road ahead curved between thick green hedges and rolling fields, the kind of countryside that looked like it belonged on a postcard.

Will drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting near the gearstick. Every so often, I’d catch him glancing sideways at me when the boys weren’t shouting. Nothing obvious just soft, passing looks that made my stomach flip unexpectedly.

It was oddly domestic.

Me, him, two boys in the back arguing about crisps and the best type of stick for a campfire.

When Jack finally fell asleep with his head against the window and Alfie started humming quietly, Will glanced over at me again, this time with a tiny smile.

“You alright?”

“Yeah,” I said softly. “This is… nice.”

“Bit chaotic.”

“But nice,” I added.

He nodded, eyes flicking back to the road. “Glad you came.”

I didn’t say anything. I just smiled and looked out the window, letting that settle quietly between us.

The campsite was perfect nestled between a forest and a wide, still lake. There were a few other families setting up, but we had our own little patch near the water.

The boys ran off immediately, kicking a football and nearly decapitating a nearby pigeon.

“Right,” Will said, opening the boot. “Time to wrestle with the tent.”

“I thought you said this thing was easy to set up?”

“I lied.”

It was an ordeal there were at least forty-five poles, none of which made any structural sense. I held one side while Will tried to loop a canvas over the top, only to get tangled and somehow pull it entirely inside-out.

“Brilliant,” I said, arms crossed.

“Don’t look at me like that. I’m an actor, not a structural engineer.”

I snorted. “Clearly.”

Eventually, we found a rhythm Will hammering pegs into the ground, me unfolding things and keeping the boys from taking off with the mallet. The sun was warm overhead, and the lake glistened in the distance, tempting and still.

“You ever actually been camping?” I asked, grabbing the last set of poles.

“Once,” he said. “In year eight. I got food poisoning and swore I’d never do it again.”

“And now here you are.”

He looked at me, half-smirking. “You’re a bad influence.”

“Oh, I’m the reason we’re sleeping outside tonight?”

“Partially.”

We were laughing as he reached for one of the last stakes, tripped over a loose guy rope, and grabbed me on instinct.

Unfortunately, I was standing on uneven ground.

Even more unfortunately, the tent was right next to the lake.

One chaotic second later, we were in the water.

I landed on top of him, both of us submerged up to our shoulders, clothes soaked, mouths open in gasping laughter.

“Are you kidding me?” I spluttered, hair stuck to my face.

Will was wheezing. “That was not my fault.”

“You pulled me!”

“You were already falling!”

“Liar!”

From the edge of the lake, the boys were howling with laughter. Jack nearly fell over with how hard he was giggling, while Alfie pointed and shouted, “You look like soggy biscuits!”

Will’s hand was still around my waist. Mine was pressed to his chest where I’d braced myself.

We froze for a second.

Just long enough.

Our eyes met. Close, too close. Something warm and electric passed between us, and my breath caught for a beat. Will’s eyes flicked to my mouth, and I felt the air shift, that subtle change like pressure before a storm.

But then he laughed. Loud, light, breaking the moment apart.

I rolled off him with a splash, shaking my head.

“Right,” I said, wiping water from my eyes. “I’m never helping you pitch a tent again.”

He dragged himself up beside me, shirt clinging to his chest. “Fair.”

We climbed out of the lake together, dripping and laughing, the boys now racing to grab towels.

“You looked like penguins falling over!” Jack shouted.

“I got water in my ears,” Alfie said dramatically.

Will handed him a towel and ruffled his hair. “Serves you right for mocking your elders.”

I grabbed the second towel and wrung my hair out. My t-shirt clung to me in all the worst ways, and Will, bless him, was clearly trying very hard not to notice.

We avoided eye contact for a while after that.

But even while I helped Jack find his runners and Will chased Alfie away from someone else’s barbecue, I could still feel that second in the water the press of our bodies, the weight of his gaze, the way he’d held me without hesitation.

It was nothing.

It was everything.

And I had no idea what it meant.

But I knew this: it was going to be a very interesting weekend.

The fire crackled softly as the last of the marshmallows turned golden on their sticks. Jack and Alfie were finally asleep in the tent, curled up in a pile of blankets and sugar-induced exhaustion. Will had double-checked on them twice, each time returning to the fire with a small, contented sigh.

Now it was just the two of us.

The sky had darkened into a tapestry of stars. The kind you only saw properly when you left the city behind. I pulled the blanket tighter around my shoulders, watching the flames dance in the pit between us.

Will passed me a tin mug of tea, fingers brushing mine. “Still warm,” he said.

“Thanks,” I murmured. Our hands lingered for a second too long before he settled beside me again, legs stretched out, firelight flickering over his face.

We sat like that for a while. Quiet. Comfortable. The kind of silence you don’t feel the need to fill.

“I’m glad you came,” Will said, eventually.

“I am too,” I replied honestly. “They were so excited all day. It would’ve taken wild horses to stop me.”

He smiled, but there was something quieter behind it this time. His eyes fixed on the fire. “They’re good boys. Better than I deserve, most days.”

“You’re a brilliant dad, Will.”

He didn’t reply straight away. He poked the fire gently with a stick, watching the sparks rise and disappear into the night.

“I’ve never really told you about their mum,” he said, voice lower now.

I glanced at him. “You don’t have to.”

“I want to,” he said, meeting my gaze. “You’ve… been here, you know? You deserve to understand the whole picture.”

I nodded, waiting.

“It wasn’t planned,” he said. “She was… well, it was one night. Nothing serious. But when she told me she was pregnant, I just thought what’s the right thing to do? Be there. Try to make it work. I asked her out, we tried dating. I thought maybe we could become a family if we really wanted to.”

He paused, rubbing his thumb along the rim of his mug.

“But Jemma… she didn’t want that. Not really. She tried. But being a mum never came naturally to her. She’d get frustrated, overwhelmed. Distant. And I… I kept trying to hold it together. For the boys. For some idea of what family should look like.”

I stayed quiet, listening, feeling the weight of the words he hadn’t said yet.

“We split up when they were still babies. Tried shared custody at first three years of bouncing between houses. But then one day, she sat me down and said she couldn’t do it anymore. That she wanted out. Completely.”

He looked at me, and for the first time, I saw a flicker of that old hurt behind his eyes.

“She signed over her rights. Moved to Paris. I haven’t heard from her since. The boys haven’t either.”

“I’m so sorry,” I said softly, my hand moving without thinking, brushing lightly against his arm.

“They were too young to really remember her, which is a mercy, I guess,” he said. “But I still wonder what it’ll do to them. Growing up without a mum. I worry about it more than I’d ever admit to anyone else.”

“You’re doing everything they need,” I said. “They’re loved. Safe. Happy. That’s what matters.”

He smiled faintly, the lines around his mouth softening. “Maybe. But still… you’ve been more of a mum to them these past few months than she ever was.”

That made my breath catch.

“Will”

“It’s true,” he said, gently, not letting me brush it away. “They adore you. They light up when you’re around. And so do I, if I’m honest.”

He looked at me then, properly, and the air felt thick with the weight of everything unsaid.

I swallowed. “I never asked because… well, it wasn’t my business. But I’ve wondered. I just didn’t want to pry.”

“I appreciate that,” he said. “You never pushed. You just… showed up. Again and again.”

There was a silence, tender and tentative.

He cleared his throat. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Why are you single?”

I let out a soft laugh, eyes dropping to the mug in my hands. “Long story short? I was with someone for a long time. Too long, really. We weren’t right for each other. But we kept pretending we were, because the alternative felt scarier. We were just holding each other back.”

Will nodded, watching me.

“It took a while to realise that it’s okay to want more,” I added. “That being alone isn’t the same as being lonely.”

“Do you want kids?” he asked, voice a little quieter.

“With the right person,” I said, answering honestly. “Yeah. I’ve always wanted a family. But not just for the sake of it. I want it to feel… like this.” I gestured around us. “Real. Messy. Meaningful.”

He nodded slowly. “Me too.”

“You’ve got two amazing kids already,” I said, smiling.

“I know,” he said. “But I’d want more. If the person was right… I’d want the whole thing. The chaos. The commitment. The mornings and the night feeds and the matching Christmas pyjamas.”

I laughed. “You? Matching pyjamas?”

“I’d do it,” he said with a grin. “For the right person.”

Our eyes met again across the fire.

And there it was the shift.

The quiet acknowledgement of something that had been slowly building for months. A mutual recognition, soft and unspoken.

Will leaned a little closer, elbows resting on his knees. “I like this,” he said. “Us. Sitting here. Feels like… something good.”

“Yeah,” I said, barely above a whisper. “It does.”

He didn’t move, didn’t try to kiss me or take it further. He just stayed there beside me, the warmth between us growing steadily like the glow of the fire.

And I realised, in that moment, that this the soft way he looked at me, the easy rhythm we had was something rare. Something worth waiting for.

I woke to the sound of birdsong and the distant rustling of leaves. The tent was warm with early sunlight, the kind that filtered through trees and painted everything in soft gold. My back ached slightly from the uneven ground, but I didn’t mind.

Outside, I could already hear the boys laughing.

When I unzipped the tent flap, the smell of campfire smoke and something cooking hit me all at once. Will stood over the little gas stove, flipping something in a pan. Alfie was crouched beside him, unwrapping slices of bread, and Jack sat at the little fold-out table, watching them like it was high drama.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” Will called, glancing over his shoulder with a smile that somehow managed to look both warm and sleep-rumpled.

“Mornin’,” I said, my voice croaky with sleep. I pulled on my jacket and stepped barefoot into the dew-soft grass.

“She snores,” Alfie whispered loudly to Jack.

“I do not,” I said, laughing as I grabbed a camp mug and poured myself some of the instant coffee Will had made.

“Dad snores louder,” Jack offered.

“Unfair,” Will muttered.

Alfie nodded sagely. “He does the growly ones. Like a bear.”

I sipped my coffee to hide my grin. “You poor things. How do you survive?”

“We don’t sleep,” Jack said dramatically. “We just lie there… suffering.”

Will rolled his eyes, flipping the eggs in the pan. “They’re fueled entirely by chaos and sugar. It’s impressive, really.”

“Explains a lot,” I muttered.

We ate breakfast on mismatched camp chairs around the fire pit, the boys devouring their sandwiches like they hadn’t eaten in days. Will handed me a second mug of coffee without a word, and our fingers brushed. His eyes lingered on mine for half a second longer than necessary before he turned back to Jack’s dramatic retelling of his bug bite.

After the clean-up, Will clapped his hands. “Alright, gentlemen, we’re going on a hike after this. So no more sword fighting with sticks.”

“Awww,” both boys groaned.

I laughed, brushing dirt off my pants. “Do I count as a gentleman or do I get a free pass?”

Will gave me a once-over, smiling. “You look like someone who can out-hike all three of us.”

“You’d be right.”

We packed water bottles and snacks into a backpack, then set off down the dirt trail that wound through the woods. Jack led the charge, pointing at every squirrel and oddly shaped tree like he was discovering a new species. Alfie lagged behind sometimes, distracted by pinecones and collecting the “coolest rocks ever.”

Will walked beside me. Occasionally we’d glance at each other and smile a quiet, shared awareness of the space we were settling into together.

At one point, the boys were a few paces ahead, arguing over whether the rock Alfie found was volcanic or magic, and Will reached out, almost absently, and took my hand.

Just like that.

No big moment. No fanfare.

Just fingers threading with mine like it was the most natural thing in the world.

My heart stumbled a little in my chest, but I didn’t pull away. I squeezed his hand gently and looked up at him.

He looked down at me, sheepish but smiling. “That okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I said. “It’s… nice.”

We walked like that for a while, the boys skipping ahead, our hands swinging gently between us. It was quiet the kind of quiet that spoke volumes.

Eventually, we came to a clearing where the trees parted and sunlight poured in. Jack immediately flopped onto the grass like a Victorian woman fainting. “Snack time,” he declared.

Will dropped the backpack and let go of my hand, but not before brushing his thumb across my knuckles once. It was barely noticeable, but I felt it everywhere.

We sat, passed around trail mix and juice and let the morning settle into our skin. The air smelled like pine and damp earth. Alfie told a story about a monster that lived in the lake. Jack insisted he’d seen it.

Will leaned back on his elbows beside me, legs stretched out, eyes closed against the sun. “This is my favourite kind of morning,” he murmured.

I turned to look at him. “Me too.”

He opened his eyes and smiled at me, something soft and unreadable flickering in his expression.

And even though the boys were still arguing about lake monsters and the sun was starting to climb higher, I felt like we were suspended in something rare. Something quietly changing.

We packed up eventually, the boys leading us back down the trail, their voices echoing through the trees.

Will reached for my hand again without saying a word.

And I held on.

Chapter 2 Chapter 3

[didalexiabreakupwitholgaisback]

the best damn tiktok account out there spitting facts, supporting our indigenous and immigrant languages, and taking down bullfighting 👏👏👏 (and she's gay too. happy pride! 🥳)

"you don't really like spanish culture, you like your own (castilian) culture and those who submit to it."

source: linguriosa on tiktok

does it make sense that catalan, galician, and basque are spoken in institutional situations?

first, i'm not a political scientist. i don't understand politics at all. i do linguistic outreach, and this is more of a political issue than a linguistic one. nothing here is right or wrong from a scientific point of view, because what i'm about to say has nothing to do with science. i'm going to give my personal opinion, which is just as valid as any other.

so, many people say that since we have a common language, in this case spanish, why not use it for institutional meetings? that way, we can all understand each other and save money on interpreters and earpieces?

well, it's very easy to say there's a common language when you're monolingual in spanish. of course, the argument favors you; it's perfect. let's take an example. i'm from guadalajara, and speaking my language, i can interact in all the state institutions. but let's say you're from a village in galicia and you speak galician, regardless of whether you also speak spanish or not, that doesn't matter. your language is galician. your language isn't what your state says is your language. your language is what you speak with your parents, with your friends, on the street where you grew up. that's your language.

and you can't go to any institution in spain speaking your language. why do some people do it and others don't? if you force a galician speaker to speak spanish whenever you want, you don't really like spanish culture. you like our culture and those who submit to it. spanish culture is spanish, but at the same level, at the very same level, there are catalan, basque, galician, aranese, aragonese, asturian-leonese, and an increasing number of languages ​​spoken by immigrants to their children, who are as spanish as you and me. valuing spanish culture means valuing all of it.

yeah, but it's a waste of money? let's see, i repeat, i'm very, very uninformed about politics. but, without looking too hard, i've seen that, and i quote, they spend more than 4.3 million euros annually translating into spanish the way parliamentarians use basque, galician, catalan, and valencian.

personally, i think it's important to defend and protect the world's languages, and those of spain specifically represent my culture. and yes, 4.3 million is a lot of money. but do you know how much more than 4.3 million is?

40 million. i don't know much about math, but i think there's about 35 million difference between the two numbers. do you know what they invest that amount of money in? bullfighting. and, mind you, that 40 million figure still needs to include what the state, the autonomous regions, and indirect aid from the european union give. in fact, some sources say there are over 500 million in total. this definitely doesn't represent my culture. well, neither mine nor that of 78% of the population. what do you think about all this?

[withluvvenus]

　venus's　　𝓒𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐒 　　　𝓉hroughout the m͟u͟l͟t͟i͟u͟n͟i͟v͟e͟r͟s͟a͟l͟ 　　🩰🦢˚˖𓍢

𝟎𝟏.　　𝐌𝐘 𝓕𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘　 　　i don't see life before them or after them . these three people , my mumma , my papa , and my brother are the most important people in my life . it's them or nobody . i'd do anything for them , even on our worst days .

𝟎𝟐　　𝐌𝐘 𝓟𝐄𝐓𝐒 　　i don't think you guys ever knew i had pets ? well , not in this reality . i don't have any here , but in every reality i try to sneak in my two puppies , goa and mae . them either being mine or my parent's . goa ( boy ) is a cavapoo puppy who is 2 months old , and mae ( girl ) is a golden retriever who is 3 months old !

𝟎𝟑　　𝐌𝐘 𝓐𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 　　other than some tweaks here and there , how i look like in every . single . one . of . my . drs . is how i look like in this reality ! maybe just a little bit older to match up my age in the specific reality .

𝟎𝟒　　𝓢/𝐎 　　it's true ! ask anyone who knows me , there is no other man .

𝟎𝟓　　𝐌𝐘 𝓑𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 　　i believe she's in all of them ? if not , it's probably because i can't fit her in somehow . but if you ever see the name ' sabrina ' mentioned on one of my posts , that's my best friend !! she's my irl bsf and she knows about me wanting to shift and fully supports me , even told me she was interested when she first found out about it but didn't know much to begin with .

𝟎𝟔　　𝐌𝐘 𝓒𝐔𝐋𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 　　proud desi , not changing it . never will , don't expect race changing from me ! i'm not leaving behind henna , lehengas , good food , and bollywood because some evil racist ass is in my ear trying to clip away my wings . hell to the no !

𝟎𝟕　　𝓓𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 　　i try to push in a form of dance in every one of my drs , so be it if it's just my interest or my career . like , if i can fit the art form into my siren dr , i'm sure i can fit it anywhere else .

　　　　　　　　　　　　　 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵𝗹𝘂𝘃 ✶ 𝘃𝗲𝗻𝘂𝘀

[baronessvonglitter]

Maneater: Chapter 1

Max Lord x OFC | WC: 2,372

Summary: Dreading a dinner with his fiancée, Max meets her daughter and decides it might be worth it to stick around.

WARNINGS: 18+Only! Mature. Engagement of convenience. Age difference (Max is 35, Linda is 65, Nina is 22). Male gaze. Mention of a bj. Mention of sex toys. One (1) innocent(?) lick - makes sense in context. Hard-on AND blue balls. Fantasizing. Crude sexual hand gesture. Max is not a dad here (sorry not sorry).

A/n: The love I've seen for our Maxi-Muffin has been few and far between. I want to give a great big thank you to @everybodylovedcontractors who is probably the biggest Max Lord girlie I know 💟and who was my cheerleader and inspiration while writing this. Plus I just wanted to delve deep into the 1980s.. one of my favorite decades. I set this story in Miami because I feel like it's the city with the most 80s vibes that I envisioned for this story. Also yes, each chapter is a lyric from Hall & Oates' "Maneater" - one of the best songs from the decade. Also-also, Linda is 65 years old.. which isn't all that old by today's standards, but in the 80s, 65 might as well have been 100.

While I'm curating the playlist for this series, I know some music may not technically be out at the exact time of this story, so I'm just playing with the timeline a bit, it's all just for funzies anyway 😊

Series Masterlist

"Mr. Lord, you have a call on line one," Raquel's voice chirps over the intercom.

"Who is it?" Max asks, hope coloring his voice. The office is too huge, too quiet. He envisions a whole bullpen full of desks, phones ringing off the hook and employees.. his employees, eagerly answering those calls, making successful sales, generating cash flow, making him money.

"It's your fiancée, Linda St. James," Raquel replies. "It sounds urgent."

"Great," he mutters, dreading this call. He dreads all her calls. He lets out a long-suffering sigh. "Put her through."

"Does my Maxi-Muffin miss me?" Linda's sickly sweet voice comes over the line. At sixty-five years old she's one of the richest widows in the country, a real estate tycoon and almost twice Max's age. "I wanted to tell you I'm still in Dallas, but my flight should arrive just in time for us to have dinner at mine tonight."

"Oh Linda my dear, I am positively quivering with anticipation of seeing you again," Max lies through his teeth, lining up a shot on his desktop mini pool table.

Linda continues. "I was thinking.. over dinner we could talk about that business loan I want to give you," she says in a sing-song voice.

Damn, the woman knows how to dangle a carrot. And I'm just her pet, her toy, something to show off to her friends.

"Nothing would make me happier than to enjoy a fine dinner with the most.. with such a.. with my lovely bride-to-be," he manages to choke out. Ass kissing comes with the territory of business and finance, but his lack of attraction to his fiancée somehow keeps him from exaggerated compliments. "But if my dear Linda wants to discuss financing my future, then I won't stop her."

"You know I love nothing more than to help you," her voice drips with sickly sweetness. "See you tonight at the mansion, honey muffin." She makes kissing sounds over the phone before she hangs up.

Max hangs up with a groan of disgust.

That evening he's in the backseat of his town car, smoothing through the post-rush hour traffic. He checks his hair in the mirror, turning up the radio as the new Hall & Oates cassette plays in the sound system.

"A she-cat tamed by the purr of a Jaguar," he sings along to himself as the car finally stops in the circular driveway of Linda's mansion, all lit up against the lavender and orange of the impending night. It's early summer and already it's sweltering, the dipping of the sun doing little to cool him down. Music from a boombox can be heard faintly, along with shouts and splashes from what he guesses are coming from Linda's Olympic-size pool in the back. With a sigh Max presses the intercom button at the front door and waits for Linda to buzz him in.

The machine quickly crackles back and a young woman's voice is heard: "Be right there!"

Several minutes later the door is opened by a stunning woman in a red bikini and espadrilles, toweling off her long black hair, a pair of red Wayfarers perched on her head. "You're not the pizza guy," she says with a slight pout.

Max forces his eyes from her lithe, bronzed body, still dewy with pool water, and meets her gaze, but it's there he's trapped by the upward, feline tilt of her velvet brown eyes. "No, actually I'm here to see Linda.. is she home?"

"Her flight got delayed. She won't be here until after midnight." The young woman shrugs, seemingly posing in the doorway, body nearly on full display and from the looks of it she's enjoying his attention. "And who are you?" she asks, tilting her head at him.

He doesn't know whether to be relieved or to dread a future meeting with his bride. "I'm Maxwell Lord, Linda's future spouse," he introduces himself, laying on the charm with his megawatt smile. "I have a scheduled dinner meeting with her tonight."

She takes his proffered hand, her eyes lighting up with mirth. "Oh? You're having a scheduled dinner meeting with your future spouse? Sounds romantic." She giggles and takes a drag off the cigarette she's holding. "Come in. She'd be pissed at me if I slammed the door on my future stepdad." She smiles, her teeth showing off an attractive gleam. "I'm her daughter Nina."

Max is captivated by her full lips, which look like they'd be fun to kiss.

Though he's been here a handful of times already, Nina leads him through the house, Nina saunters with an ease, a grace, and even a particular carelessness, as if she'd rather bump into and topple over a priceless vase than to steer clear of it. "You can stick around if you want," she says over her shoulder. "I didn't know Linda was expecting company, so I invited a few friends over for a swim."

"When Linda said she had a daughter I assumed she meant one young enough for boarding school," Max says, catching up with her long strides.

"She never even bothered to mention you to me." Nina shrugs, stubbing out her cigarette on an expensive looking Murano glass ashtray.

"If you'll beg my pardon, you look nothing like her. I was expecting someone more.."

"White?" Nina grins, and it makes Max's heart want to stop.

"Well, yes, actually." This gives him the chance to scope her out. She's blessed with an athletic build, her svelte body kissed by the sun. Her hips curve oh-so-delicately to her slender waist where the still-dripping ends of her raven-black hair stick to her flawless skin. Her breasts are perky and firm, the points of her nipples poking through her bikini top. Max lets his eyes drift there, lingering a little before roving upwards to Nina's face, her plush red-painted lips already curved in a smirk, her eyes holding mischief when their gazes meet again.

"I'm adopted," she answers. "Thank fucking god."

She opens wide the patio French doors to reveal the pool party: "Hot Girls in Love" by Loverboy blasts from the boombox as college kids splash in the pool or lazily tan themselves on one of the dozens of sunning chairs, either asleep or drunk or high.

"Not the party you were expecting, huh?" Nina smiles at Max, taking his hand and leading him outside.

"Do you know everyone here?" Max asks, subtly eyeing some of the coeds, but his attention goes straight back to his hostess.

"Not really. But I can't stand being alone. So I just let people come over. I'm a modern-day Gatsby."

His brows raise. "You've read F. Scott Fitzgerald?"

Nina takes a beer and cracks the tab open, taking a small sip. "You think because I'm rich and hot that I'm stupid as well?"

Max pales. "No, I didn't mean--"

"Relax. Have a drink," she says, grabbing another beer for him, but not before placing the cold can on her chest, sweeping over her collarbones and dipping into the plentiful cleavage. "Need to cool off a little first," she says, handing him the drink at last.

His eyes nearly pop out of his head but he maintains a degree of cool, offering a slight smirk in return, his gaze dropping to the lush valley between Nina's breasts, imagining gathering the droplets of water there with a sweep of his tongue.

"Mr. Lord? Mr. Lord," an insistent voice is in his ear and he turns to see Linda's maid. "Forgive me, I couldn't hear your arrival over all the noise." She shoots a glaring look at Nina. "If you prefer you may wait inside, where better refreshment is available." She wrinkles her nose at the beer in his hand.

"Thank you, Paulette," he murmurs. "I may stay out here a moment longer. The air is so nice right now." He casts another furtive glance at his fiancée's daughter.

"As you wish," the maid says, casting him a snobby look before going inside.

Nina glides back into the water, sharing a floatie with another girl. Max's fantasy goes into overdrive as he watches the two bikini-clad college girls snuggled so close together.

"Who's the dweeb?" her friend Tammy asks.

"Another one of Linda's poor suckers. Supposedly he's her fiancé," Nina groans.

"He's kinda cute.. he's that hotshot from those dumb commercials, isn't he?"

"That's right," Nina answers, watching him covertly through her sunglasses. Max walks around aimlessly, talking to people here and there but this group isn't exactly his age range.

"Maybe I'll blow him," she says. "He seems like the type to be humbled by a BJ."

Tammy laughs, splashing her with water. "If you can't humble him, no one can."

Max is enjoying his last moments of freedom before Linda is due to arrive, his eyes drinking in as much of Nina as he can. He watches her glide under the aquamarine water, surfacing just where he stood at the edge of the pool, like Phoebe Cates in Fast Times at Ridgemont High.

"Linda's town car is driving up," she tells him as he admires her: shiny and wet, the pool water glistening on her dark lustrous hair. "You should probably go inside and get ready for your romantic dinner." She smirks, going underwater again.

"Wait.. how did you know she's coming?" he asks, but Nina's already gone.

"Max! Where are youuuu?" Linda's voice rings out, making him cringe. She appears in her prim grey Armani power suit, pearls at her ears and throat, silver hair short and feathered. Max can't help thinking if she was even twenty years younger he'd find her more attractive.

"I see my daughter invited her friends over," she smiles with hidden disgust at the younger people infringing on her personal property. "Nina dear, have everyone gone immediately," she says, finding her daughter drying off.

"Will she be joining us for dinner?" he asks, hoping not to sound too hopeful.

Nina catches it as she passes by and a mischievous glint sparks her eye. "I'd love to get to know the man you're going to marry," she says agreeably.

Linda looks like she'd rather eat dirt, but she smiles. "Of course. Tell your friends to leave, then get ready to dine with us."

Max suffers through the humiliation of Linda feeding him like he's a child. No matter that he doesn't like asparagus-- Linda feeds him extra helpings. "It's good for your digestion," she says, patting the small bulge of his belly.

He smiles, chewing the horrid greens. "My Linda always looks out for me.."

Nina watches from her seat across from Max, stifling a smirk on her rouged lips. And Max can't even tell Linda no, because she knows he needs her. So, annoyed by her treatment of him, he knows better than to protest.

"I'm thinking, dear Maxy.." Linda coos.

His ears perk up. Now may be the time to discuss the loan she'll give him. He does his best to maintain his composure.

Linda continues, "We should save our business negotiations for after the wedding."

Max places his hands on the table, because he's very certain it's just turned.

"Oh.. dear Linda," he says with false sweetness that she seems not to pick up on. "I'd really hoped to get a good start before we're officially man and wife. And I thought to pay you back quickly for your generous loan, as sort of a wedding present."

Nina remains quiet through all this, moving her food around on her plate, a look of utter boredom on her beautiful face as she takes in the exchange. As usual, Linda acts as if she isn't even there. "May I be excused?" she asks, interrupting their little love fest.

Linda looks up. "Already?"

"As much fun as it is to watch you spoon-feed your fiancé who's young enough to be your son, I'd much rather be at Tammy's. I'm going to spend the night." She puts down her napkin, pushing her plate of uneaten food away.

"Fine, fine," Linda answers, not bothering to look at her daughter. "I hope you've at least cleaned your room. I can't tell you how embarrassed Paulette gets when she walks in and has to see your lacy underthings and.. sex toys strewn everywhere."

Max does his best not to crack a smile, though his blush is obvious when Nina casts her glace on him. She smirks, daring him to meet her eyes.

Paulette comes in to tell Linda she has a phone call, and the older woman throws her napkin down, giving Max a kiss on the cheek before leaving. "If you are very good you'll get dessert," she whispers before leaving to take her phone call.

"Ooh, dessert," Nina smirks. "It's a good thing I'll be out of the house. I wouldn't want to overhear anything that might make my imagination run wild." On those long legs she stalks over to Max, standing behind him, her hands resting on his shoulders. Her red lacquered nails gleam in the light of the overhead chandelier. "You're a man of style, aren't you?" she whispers. "Just be careful with this suit.. you've got a little something here." She leans in and lightly licks away a tiny bit of sauce from the corner of his mouth.

Max is glad for the dinner napkin resting in his lap though it's doing little to hide the growing erection she's giving him. After she goes upstairs and Linda returns from her call, his face is still pink, his brain still swimming with thoughts of Nina in that teeny bikini, holding his beer to her clevage. He imagines her polished fingers wrapping around his-

He's distracted by Linda once more, and feigns attention to her, ignoring the tiny ache in his balls as he softens from his earlier excitement. But the little minx that she is, his future stepdaughter traipses down the stairs, duffel bag in hand, a barely-there mini dress under her denim bedazzled jacket. Catching his glance she blows him a kiss, then sticks her tongue in her cheek, her fist going to her mouth, mimicking a blow job, giggling as she takes her leave through the front door.

Yeah, he's definitely gonna marry Linda now.

Music inspo for this chapter:

dividers by @strangergraphics & @plum98 👑

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@djarinmuse @foreveratlantica-blog @a-loneywolf @chalterdh22

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