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katyspersonal · 1 year

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🅱️loodborne height headcanons

But first, the canon ones - the official video introducing Maria's figma ( x ) reveals that Maria (and the Doll, as follows) is 6'7'' (201 cm), whereas default Paleblood Hunter is 5'11'' (180 cm).

Then by stretching the image of ripped models ( x ) across the chart with the heights and comparing them to Maria, I concluded Micolash is 5'11'' (180 cm), Gascoigne is 7'2'' (218 cm) and Gehrman is ~7'7''-7'8'' (approximately 233 cm)! Now to the actual hcs! Centimeters scaling is approximate since inches do not convert into very round numbers.

Two lists - in alphabetical order and from tallest to shortest, as self-reference. Might be a subject to change if I ever manage to compare models between themselves better!

In alphabetical order:

Adeline (initial) - 5'6'' (168 cm)

Adeline (transformed) - 6'9'' (206 cm)

Adella - 5'7'' (170 cm)

Alfred - 6'2'' (188 cm)

Amelia - 6'10'' (208 cm)

Annalise - 6'7'' (201 cm)

Antal - 5'10'' (178 cm)

Archibald - 5'8'' (173 cm)

Arianna - 5'5'' (165 cm)

Bestial hunter - 6'1'' (185 cm)

Black Church female hunter - 6'0'' (183 cm)

Black Church male hunter - 5'8'' (173 cm)

Blood Minister - 6'6'' (198 cm)

Brador - 6'1'' (185 cm)

Cainhurst librarian (cut content) - 5'1'' (155 cm)

Carla - 6'5'' (196 cm)

Caryll - 6'2'' (188 cm)

Chapel Dweller - 6'11'' (211 cm)

Chester - 6'0'' (183 cm)

Cleric Beast of the bridge (as human) - 6'0'' (183 cm)

Crow of Cainhurst - 5'11'' (180 cm)

Damian - 6'2'' (188 cm)

Desperate Hunter (Yharnam) - 5'11'' (180 cm)

Desperate hunter (Church) - 6'1'' (185 cm)

Djura - 5'7'' (170 cm)

Djura's Ally - 6'2'' (188 cm)

Djura's apprentice - 5'7'' (170 cm)

Dores - 6'4'' (193 cm)

Edgar - 6'2.5'' (190 cm)

Eileen - 5'7'' (170 cm)

Fishing Hamlet priest - 6'11.5 (210 cm)

Forgotten Madman - 5'4'' (163 cm)

Gascoigne - 7'2'' (218 cm)

Gatekeeper - 6'0'' (183 cm)

Gehrman - 7'7.5'' (233 cm)

Gilbert - 5'10'' (178 cm)

Gratia - 7'9'' (236 cm)

Gremia - 6'6.5 (200 cm)

Henriett - 5'8'' (173 cm)

Henryk - 6'0'' (183 cm)

Iosefka + imposter - 5'10'' (178 cm)

Izzy - 6'2'' (188 cm)

Josef - 6'1'' (185 cm)

King (initial) - 5'8.5'' (174 cm)

King (transformed) - 6'8'' (203 cm)

Laurence - 5'2'' (157 cm)

Leo - 6'5'' (196 cm)

Logarius - 8'1'' (246 cm)

Lonely old dear - 5'4'' (163 cm)

Ludwig (as human) - 7'00'' (213 cm)

Madaras Twins - 5'10'' (178 cm)

Madman's Escort - 6'1'' (185 cm)

Maria + Doll - 6'7'' (201 cm)

Micolash - 5'11'' (180 cm)

Older daughter - 4'3'' (130 cm)

Olek - 5'7'' (170 cm)

Paleblood Hunter - 5'11'' (180 cm)

Patches - 6'2.5'' (190 cm)

Queen Killer - 6'1'' (185 cm)

Rom - 5'0'' (152 cm)

Sceptical man - 5'9'' (175 cm)

Simon - 5'7'' (170 cm)

Suspicious Beggar - 5'9'' (175 cm)

Valtr - 6'3'' (191 cm)

Viola - 5'10'' (178 cm)

Vitus - 6'6'' (198 cm)

Wallar - 6'0'' (183 cm)

White Church female hunter - 5'9'' (175 cm)

Willem - 6'10'' (208 cm)

Yahar'gul hunter (Tonitrus) - 6'0'' (183 cm)

Yahar'gul hunter (cane) - 5'11'' (180 cm)

Yahar'gul hunter (cannon) - 6'6'' (198 cm)

Yahar'gul hunter (in the cell) - 5'9'' (175 cm)

Yahar'gul hunters (the twins) - 5'7'' (170 cm)

Yamamura - 5'5'' (165 cm)

Yharnam - 7'3'' (221 cm)

Younger daughter - 3'8'' (112 cm)

Yurie - 5'8'' (173 cm)

From tallest to shortest:

8'1'' (246 cm) - Logarius

7'9'' (236 cm) - Gratia

7'7.5'' (233 cm) - Gehrman

7'3'' (221 cm) - Yharnam

7'2'' (218 cm) - Gascoigne

7'00'' (213 cm) - Ludwig (as human)

6'11.5 (210 cm) - Fishing Hamlet priest

6'11'' (211 cm) - Chapel Dweller

6'10'' (208 cm) - Willem, Amelia

6'9'' (206 cm) - Adeline (transformed)

6'8'' (203 cm) - King (transformed)

6'7'' (201 cm) - Maria + Doll, Annalise

6'6.5 (200 cm) - Gremia

6'6'' (198 cm) - Yahar'gul hunter (cannon), Vitus, Blood Minister

6'5'' (196 cm) - Leo, Carla

6'4'' (193 cm) - Dores

6'3'' (191 cm) - Valtr

6'2.5'' (190 cm) - Edgar, Patches

6'2'' (188 cm) - Caryll, Damian, Alfred, Izzy, Djura's ally

6'1'' (185 cm) - Bestial hunter, Brador, Josef, Madman's Escort, Queen Killer, Desperate hunter (Church)

6'0'' (183 cm) - Gatekeeper, Henryk, Chester, Black Church female hunter, Wallar, Cleric Beast of the bridge (as human), Yahar'gul hunter (Tonitrus)

5'11'' (180 cm) - Micolash, Paleblood hunter, Crow of Cainhurst, Desperate Hunter (Yharnam), Yahar'gul hunter (cane)

5'10'' (178 cm) - Iosefka + imposter, Antal, Gilbert, Madaras twins, Viola

5'9'' (175 cm) - White Church female hunter, Yahar'gul hunter (in the cell), Suspicious Beggar, Sceptical man

5'8.5'' (174 cm) - King (initial)

5'8'' (173 cm) - Yurie, Black Church male hunter, Henriett, Archibald

5'7'' (170 cm) - Eileen, Adella, Simon + Djura's apprentice, Djura, Yahar'gul hunters (the twins), Olek

5'6'' (168 cm) - Adeline (initial)

5'5'' (165 cm) - Yamamura, Arianna

5'4'' (163 cm) - Forgotten Madman, Lonely old dear

5'2'' (157 cm) - Laurence

5'1'' (155 cm) - Cainhurst librarian (cut content)

5'0'' (152 cm) - Rom

4'3'' (130 cm) - Older daughter

3'8'' (112 cm) - Younger daughter

#bloodborne #bloodborne headcanons #use later #multi character post #heights #self-reference #see? laurence is not THAT tiny! he is the TALLEST in top 5 tiniest!#sdjfjfhsddd #honestly thooooo let him be SMOL #when you see a short man you do not bully him you kiss him and hold him in your arms like a cat AAAAAAAA #fun fact: earlier Rom was 155 cm and Laurence was 150 cm #but i was convinced that even for a comic effect that's TOO little especially for a male #so i sorta swapped them #honestly rom being the shortest (not counting the children) is somewhat accidental #because most of the known cast appears to be either abnormally tall or men that seem to have average male heights #and whatever women we do see just don't hit me as shorter than average 5'4 or 5'6 #it's okay rom you will grow big some day......#TOO big actually ahahahah #adeline had quite a height leap tho #because she drank her milk- i mean brain fluid xD

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jarofstyles · 24 days

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Stacy’s Mom

Stacy’s mom has got it goin’ on… and Harry’s definitely been noticing for a while.

We haven’t seen a lot of reverse age gap fics and figured it was our time to contribute to the cause. We hope you enjoy!

Check out our Patreon for early access and 150+ exclusive writings

Warnings- age gap, unprotected sex, teasing, creampie, soft dom!H

———————

His lip was bitten as he watched her walk across the backyard, sunglasses hiding his gaze. The back of her sundress brushed the softness of her thighs, her hair pulled up in a claw clip as she placed snacks down on the glass table for the group of friends that often frequented the pool at her house. The very house she had won in the divorce just three years ago.

Stacy’s parents had always been generous when it came to letting their home be the epicenter of their friend groups’ hang out. It didn’t stop when they all came home from uni for the summer, everyone falling back into their routine with the hometown group, or after they’d graduated and some had stayed in town. Drunken food at the diner, pub crawls- legally this time-, the mall, the summer carnival, and movie nights and pool days at Stacy’s house. It was spacious and clean and it had only changed a little bit since the divorce. Her hotshot lawyer father paid a nice big chunk of change in alimony keeping the comfortable lifestyle afloat, one Harry was aiming to get for himself. Hopefully after he opened up a garage or two, he’d be able to grab a house like this. Make someone happy.

The problem is, the last three summers all he could think about was someone he definitely shouldn’t be.

It was no secret that she was incredible. Everyone loved Y/N from the start and not just because she was the ‘cool, young mom’ who didn’t make them call her by her last name. She was genuinely kind, loved to make them snacks, would pick up anyone who needed it, let them nurse their hangovers at their house and made them the greasy breakfasts they needed to get through the mornings. The woman was an angel- and she had an exterior to match.

It seemed like in the last few years though, she had been rediscovering herself and her body. Dressing in ways she hadn’t before, ways he knew Stacy’s father wouldn’t like. Denim shorts and tank tops, sundresses, the like. Things that made Harry’s crush morph from minor to major. Y/N had become the centerfold to his wet dreams, the woman he compared other girls to, the one he closed his eyes and imagined in the shower when he was stroking off. He watched her in her kitchen while she chopped up fruit for them, her back turned and imagined approaching her from behind and placing kisses on her neck, hiking the dress up and offering her all the fun she could want.

There was something so tempting about the older woman. Harry’d always sort of had that preference, but it had intensified as he grew up. His friends liked to prod at him about being into MILFs and he couldn’t deny it. He was. There was certainly one mother he’d love to fuck, and it was Stacy’s. In all honesty, it was half the reason he kept showing up here.

“I hate to say it, Stace- your mom is banging.” Jeremy said what Harry was thinking but got a smack upside the head with a waterlogged pool noodle, making him yelp.

“Do not talk about my mom like that you freak!” She hissed. “She’s a beautiful woman but none of you are going to even think about her in any way but my mother.” Her warning glare did little to deter Harry, though he merely shrugged at her to get her to think he agreed. There was no way in the world that he would ever turn away a chance to be alone with Y/N. He would beg on his knees for a chance to touch her.

“Don’t look at me! I’m just saying it. Harry’s the one who’s the MILF Hunter.” Jacob snickered, making him raise an eyebrow. It was true and he wanted to smirk- because yes, he’d fucked a few older women before. Being a mechanic during the week and a bartender during the weekend had their perks, including women who found him to be more than a bit interesting. There had been a few instances he’d taken them up on their offers, quelling their loneliness and lack of orgasm with his own brand of fun. But none of them had ever appealed to him quite like Y/N.

The forbidden fruit theory, maybe. He really, really shouldn’t even entertain it. A crush turned into an obsession though, he was fucked. The moment he thought he had a chance, he would be taking it. As cocky as he could be, he knew he would be able to handle her.

“Yeah, but Harry’s not going to say stupid shit to my mom.” She huffed.

With a smirk on his face, Harry gave a half ass nod before watching the woman of discussion shoot them a beaming smile across the yard before she turned to go back inside. Harry’s eyes ate up every curve, every drop, every inch of skin he could see before she closed the sliding glass door to the deck.

If only she knew.

——

Harry was sitting at home when he got a call from a number he didn’t recognize. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence. People usually gave his number out to people who had car trouble, knowing he was reliable and could always use a bit of cash. It wasn’t something he minded, but he was exhausted tonight. Sitting down in his apartment, he exhaled slowly before clicking the green button to answer the phone.

“Hello, who’s this?” He asked gruffly, his slight agitation bleeding into his tone.

“H-Hi! I’m so sorry to call you so late, but it’s Y/N. Stacy’s mum.” She said shyly. “I’m sorry to bother you Harry, but my car… it’s not starting. I was meant to go to the grocery but it’s just making this noise and-“

His whole body shot up straight as he got confirmation as to who it was. Was it some sort of joke? Or were the angels smiling down on him for once? Any ache in his body and heaviness in his eye disappeared as he stood up from the sofa, making his way towards the door.

“M’on my way. It’s no trouble.” He said in a softer tone, thankful he had already showered. Maybe he’d need to do it again, but he wanted to look halfway decent for Y/N. “It’ll be about 15 for me to get over there.”

“Oh-are you sure?” Her voice was slightly hesitant. “You sound tired and I can order groceries if I need to, I really don’t want to put you out.”

“Promise, it’s not a big deal.” He assured her, tucking his wallet into his jeans before opening his front door. “I’d always help you with whatever you need. Didn’t mean t’’sound so grumpy, I didn’t know it was you calling.” He’d have been halfway to her house if he had known. “Give me 15 and I’ll be there.”

“As long as you’re sure.” He could tell she was doing the worried thing she usually did with her fingers touching her bottom lip. There had been a lot of silent observing on his end towards the woman and he could almost see her in his head. “I’ll make sure to make it up to you.”

Even though there was nothing suggestive in her tone, Harry could feel his prick stiffen up at the mere thought of it meaning something more. It took the whole drive there to will it down.

—-

Harry arrived to the house to see the garage doors open- and Stacy’s car gone.

Was this his divine intervention? He didn’t want to get his hopes up, but he knew she had to be gone. Harry was the one who did all the work on their cars, so it wasn’t in the shop. More than likely they’d be all alone.

The summer night was cooling off a bit but there was still a decent amount of daylight left. The stickiness had subsided and it was far more comfortable than he had been at work all day in his damn coveralls. He’d sweat up a storm and cringed the moment he’d had a moment to himself, hating how hot the garage got in the summer months. His own garages would have proper AC one day.

He was thankful for the heat though when he saw Y/N come out from the garage, her lavender dress obviously a swimsuit cover up. The straps of a bikini were underneath it, the halter top of the dress tied behind her neck. It was shorter than her normal dresses making Harry peer up at the sky and ask anyone who was up there to lend him some strength in order to not pop a stiffy in front of her- at least not yet.

“You really didn’t have to come out so quickly. I didn’t think before calling you.” Y/N crossed her arms as she walked towards the younger man who was fishing his toolbox out of the back of his pickup truck. She couldn’t help but admire how much of a man he’d truly become. Tattooed now, shown off by his black tank top. Hair a bit unruly and curled. Stubble on his upper lip and jaw. He was a man now, not a hint of boy in the slightest, and it was a little intimidating. She remembered him when he was far more lanky, 19 and shy. Now he was 23, with larger arms and broadened shoulders, a pretty set of lips and a husky voice. Things she shouldn’t have been paying attention to.

There had been a bit of tension between them somehow, tension she hadn’t been able to pinpoint where it had begun. The one thing she did know is that he was an observer. His eyes were watching her when she came out and he kept eye contact as they spoke, like he was giving her every bit of attention he had when she was talking. Maybe it was the heart sickness she felt but it was so nice to feel listened to, appreciated. Harry always helped clean up, always told her daughter to be respectful to her mum, always asked her how her day was. He was a complete gentleman every time he came over and she had to wonder how much of a problem it was for her to sort of wish for that attention all the time.

Ever since she had found out Patrick had been cheating on her, she’d felt a bit used. Dirty. Of course marrying a man 10 years her senior who was a hotshot lawyer had probably been her first sign something would go wrong, but he used to dote on her. That was until she began to age. It wasn’t like she was old- she could probably still have a kid if she wanted! But she’d gotten pregnant at 17 and Patrick had been quick to marry her on her 18th birthday. A problematic union at best, but she’d tried to be happy. She was provided for and had a beautiful home and daughter, one so smart she was able to skip around in school! But… she’d never felt truly loved. Not that toe curling, soft eyed, tummy turning love that she’d always imagined.

Not even the passion she wanted. All she wanted at this point was for someone to want her. To make a move, to show her she was sexy and prove that her newfound revelations were true.

The last three years had been tearing herself down to build back up. There was some part of her that felt 22 again, wanting to live the life she hadn’t been able to as a young mum. But that didn’t mean she had to look at Harry the way her brain was trying to.

“Stacy is at a concert a few hours away otherwise I would have just asked her to borrow her car.” Having him here now made her feel all the more ridiculous for calling him over for such a stupid reason. Tomorrow would have at least been during normal work hours.

“Y/N.” Harry’s hand rested on her shoulder, making her breath catch quietly. “S’fine. I’m more than happy to help you. Alright?” His thumb rubbed over the cuff of her shoulder before he gently lifted his hand away, carrying his toolbox further into the garage.

She felt a bit buzzed, as pathetic as it was. It had been so long since a man had touched her, let alone a younger, attractive one. It made her feel like her brain had fogged up.

“Keys in the ignition?” He murmured. “Want t’see what we’re working with.”

It was enough to shake her out of her fog, nodding a bit too eagerly as he gave her a soft smile, sitting himself in the driver’s seat. She leaned against the garage door as she watched him turn it over a few times to no avail, making her worry her bottom lip between her teeth. She had no idea about anything car related and luckily it had all been minor stuff until now. Her ex had the cars serviced every few months and she had been dropping the ball. What if it was bad? What if she needed a new engine and Harry thought she was an awful car owner? What if-

Her train of thought was snapped out of it as he let out a chuckle, standing up from the seat. “I know what it is. Isn’t a big problem at all.” He walked over to his toolbox. “Battery is dead. You may have accidentally left the key in, or a door open, maybe a light on. Not a big deal. I’ll just give it a jump.”

While he didn’t seem annoyed about it at all, Y/N felt very, very dumb. How could she have not known that’s what it was? Something so easy to fix. Her cheeks burned as she cringed, feeling the guilt well up in her body for making him come out when she could have just asked a neighbor for a jump.

It took him just a few tries with her following his instruction to turn the car on when she said so in order for her car to turn on as if nothing had happened. It was slightly humiliating.

“Oh, god… Harry, I’m so sorry.” She groaned. “I’m not… I’m not good with cars and I thought the engine was dead or something big happened to it. I made you leave your house for no reason. I can’t begin to say how awful I feel.” It felt even more embarrassing because it was such a quick fix and he was an expert in cars. She probably seemed like a bobble head.

“Woah- S’okay.” He closed the hood of her car and detached the jumper cables. “It’s actually a good thing. I’d rather it be a quick fix than something that would cost you thousands. That’s the ideal. No one is an expert in cars right away and m’sure that the whole thing was probably be a bit troubling if it’s the first time it’s happened to you.” His voice tried to soothe her worries away. The man truly looked unbothered by it all, happy to help- but still.

“Well… if you’re sure.” It still felt hot around her cheeks as she made her way towards the door leading to the kitchen. “Come inside, I’ll get you something for helping me.”

Harry let out a sigh as she waited at the door for him, tucking his toolbox and cables back into his car before following her inside. A mixture of giddiness and nerves rocked through his system as she led him towards the kitchen where her handbag was. Alone with her at last- and with a good excuse. No one would question him coming over to help with the car. Surely, Stacy had given her his number. He had every right to be here.

So why couldn’t he extend his stay?

“How much do I owe you?” Her hair fell in her face as she looked down into her bag, fishing around for her wallet. It was always a bit of a mess with receipts she needed to toss, makeup she needed to put away, a first aid kit she’d only really ever needed once- all the things making it more difficult to find her wallet. So difficult that she didn’t notice how close he got until his warm, slightly calloused hand closed over hers, gently pulling it out of the bag.

Her heart stuttered as she raised her head to look at him. Tanned skin from being out in the sun, a few freckles here and there. A birthmark near his mouth she’d never noticed. He had more scruff than the last time she had seen him too, making her mouth dry a bit as she blinked up at the man, her hand suddenly feeling much smaller in his own. He was a bit too close but there was no desire in the slightest to pull back.

“You know me a bit better than t’think that I’d charge you for a jump.” His voice was low, soft. A volume it didn’t need to be for it being just the two of them. He also didn’t need to be this close to her, close enough to smell a warm, woodsy soap on him and mint from the gum he was usually chewing. Her body felt hot under where he touched her, heartbeat quickening at his unforgiving eye contact.

“B-but you came all the way out here.” She whispered back. It wasn’t necessary to talk that low but it was following his tone, the tension palpable in the room. “I’d feel awful for making you come for nothing. I really should pay you.” His stare was intimidating but also… a bit addicting. He didn’t look away from her- no, his eyes looked over her face. Maybe she had imagined the lingering at her lips, but part of her hoped she didn’t.

“Have you had dinner yet?” His question made her slightly confused, not the response she had been expecting.

“No, why? Did you want me to cook for you?” That made her perk up a bit. She had to do something to repay him. It wouldn’t be right not to.

“No. I want t’cook for you.” His words were matter of fact. There was no way she didn’t believe his desire to do so, considering he looked so sure of himself. It just was a bit confusing. Her brows furrowed, head tilting a little as she turned more towards him- all too aware he hadn’t dropped her hand from his grip yet- giving him that questioning look. “You have the ingredients for chicken teriyaki? Rice?” When she nodded, his eyes glanced over to the pineapple in her fruit bowl. “Saw a recipe on how t’make it in a pineapple bowl. Was going to do it this weekend but I’d like to make it here. A bit more room in this kitchen and… it’d be nice to eat with someone.” He wasn’t shy about letting her know he’d like to eat with her. “May I?”

“I- I mean of course you can, but it doesn’t… how is it payment for you? For you to be the one to cook me dinner?” It was a bit hard for her to understand. She was the one who did the cooking for everyone else and it sounded like he was doing her yet another favor.

“Because you’re fun to be around, nice to talk to, I won’t have t’shop for the ingredients, and m’starving.” It was self explanatory to him. He wanted to get away with spending as much time with her as possible. Especially when she seemed to be so shocked at the idea of someone being nice to her without the thought of repayment. It sort of pissed him off. “Just sit and talk to me while I cook. It’ll be nice to hear you without people interjecting.”

Y/N hadn’t realized he had noticed that. His back was already turned, going through her fridge to get the chicken out along with some of the ingredients for the sauce but her brain was still on that. Had his shoulders always been that broad? Harry had always been quiet and observant. The nice guy, sweet and thoughtful but he didn’t seem to take any of the friend groups shit. Stacy was the youngest out of them all and he’d always been thoughtful about her. Protective over her feelings- to the point Y/N had assumed Harry had a bit of a crush on her at first. That proved to be false when she’d heard about Harry being set up with one of the mothers of the kid’s Stacy taught swim lessons to.

One of her faults was indeed being nosy, and she’d listened in on her daughter when she dropped off lunch to the pool talking to said mother. She was definitely younger than herself with a much younger child but she apparently had one good night with Harry before he politely decided not to see her again.

She wasn’t dumb. Y/N heard their teasing of Harry liking older women… and perhaps that’s why he made her a tad bit nervous. It wasn’t like he’d ever made a move, but he had a sensual air around him. He’d been gentle with her today, but never inappropriate. Was it bad to wish he would?

The answer was a resounding yes, it was not at all something she should ever want- but that didn’t mean that’s what her brain was thinking.

She pulled out a pineapple wine she’d gotten as a gift, never a more appropriate time. A glass was poured for each of them as Harry went about the motions, preparing and chopping and starting the rice. Maybe adding alcohol into the mix wasn’t the smartest idea, but she needed something to take the nervous edge off.

“Is it lonely in a big house like this?” Harry asked as he dropped the chicken into the pan. “When Stace is gone, does it feel a little daunting?”

“Sometimes.” She pursed her lips. “It’s been my house for a while now so I’m used to all the noises and I know all the neighbors. You can hear the kids playing outside, lawnmowers, or people getting home from work.‘At night it can be… it can be a bit unnerving. Cold. But Patrick was gone a lot of nights at the office, so it’s nothing I’m not used to.” A bitter scoff left her as she took a sip of wine before shaking her head, face falling. “Sorry. I know that’s the last thing you want to hear about.”

“No.” He said simply. “I’d like to. I don’t mind.” His tongue ran over his bottom lip before he met her eyes, placing his wine glass on the counter. “Everyone needs someone to vent to sometimes, Y/N. Know m’younger than you and all but I’m not clueless when it comes to relationships.” A gentle smile softened the blow of the words. “Tell me about it if you want. You don’t have to censor yourself. Not around me. It’s just us.”

There was a burn in her belly at the last few words. It felt… really fucking nice to be told that. That he wanted to earnestly hear her talk. He was an incredible listener, she found. It made her wonder how much of what she said in the past he had really heard.

“Uh… well…” twirling the glass in her hand, her fingers tightened around the stem as she had to break eye contact with him. It was making her feel a little light headed. “He was cheating, as I’m sure you know. Stacy didn’t take it well. She’d cut up all his ties by the time I found her.” Her smile quirked on her lips. Her daughter had a thirst for revenge. “It was worse when I found out it wasn’t just one person but multiple women. All at his job. It’s why he moved firms.” Her lips tightened as she looked towards the sliding glass door that was open to let the air in, the sun having started to set just a bit ago. A golden glow ran over the kitchen and she had a hard time not staring at the man in front of her.

“I… I’m not sure how much you know of myself and Patrick, but we were in a relationship when I turned 17. He was 27. I thought it was very impressive and I was so mature for my age that he chose me, but it wasn’t. It was wrong. And when I got pregnant, we had to hide it until I turned 18 and he could marry me. His parents were lovely grandparents to Stacy but awful parents to him in the way they enabled his behavior. So for a long time I just thought it was a big star crossed love story when in reality, he stole my youth from me. I don’t ever regret my daughter- don’t get me wrong.” Her look was desperate for him to believe her, but he didn’t seem to have any judgment on his face. It was a breath of fresh air considering people usually gave her pitying looks this far along.

“I love her and I wouldn’t change it. Everything happens for a reason but… I’m just a bit bitter now. My best years spent on him and he’s fucking other women because I’m ’showing my age’ and I’m essentially aged out.” Her face curled in disgust. “I work hard on my body! I keep up with my appearance! You know? I’m not lazy. I didn’t let myself go which- even if I did, that’s no fucking excuse for cheating. Marriage was supposed to be for love, for better or for worse. At least that's what I naively thought.” It had been so long since she had someone to talk to, someone who didn’t seem to fucking judge her or try and tell her it was okay. Harry merely nodded, keeping his eyes trained on her face as she got it out.

“It should be what marriage is for.” He replied in a bit of a lull. “I mean, I’ve never been married but… S’a simple enough concept to understand. I don’t think you were naive in thinking that. He was just a dick for taking advantage of you.” Harry didn’t like Patrick much from the start. He’d been a show off, obviously trying to compensate for something. He’d sort of steamrolled over things Y/N used to say, and even though he’d only seen them married for a few times he came over. It was a good thing they divorced in his humble opinion, and not just because he was a bit obsessed with the woman standing in front of him. She seemed to grow from it, her confidence rising tenfold. He’d been holding her back. “I don’t think there’s much wrong with an age gap… as long as the parties are both of legal age.” He chopped the pineapple in half, making sure to make it even. “So, m’sorry you had to go through that. Stacy is great, but I wish you didn’t have to feel that way. It’s shit.”

Y/N felt a bit validated with his words. Maybe it was the wine, but she had a feeling it was just his presence that had her relaxing. He was right on all counts, but it was a little hard to accept at times after being manipulated her whole adult life. Someone was agreeing with her that weren’t her own parents. “Thank you.” She whispered. “I’m glad at least you think so. People kept telling me that marriages have bumps in the road and I was being a bit rash, filing for divorce so quickly after I found out but… Cheating is just not something I can stomach. I think they were thinking about his money, his reputation. Cared more about how he would be seen than if I was happy. I had to do a lot of cleaning up after the divorce. Friends I had for years chose his side and… yeah. I’ve been a little lonely.” A sad laugh left her before she cleared her throat. The man probably didn’t want to hear about that. “But luckily I’ve found more fulfilling things. It’s nice when you guys come around.” Her smile grew genuinely. “I’ve always liked taking care of people. That was one perk of being in the situation I was. Being a mum was great. It’s a bit jarring now though, with her out of the house the majority of the time. So, in the long roundabout answer to your first question- yes, the big house is a bit daunting sometimes.”

Y/N had rambled and babbled. Harry had been happy to listen, attentive even while cooking. She knew she may be embarrassed later about spilling her fucking guts out to him when he had only come over to fix her not so broken car and decided he wanted to make her dinner, but it was so fucking refreshing to have someone in her kitchen with her.

It was embarrassing how much she missed male attention. She’d wanted to clench her thighs together when he grabbed her shoulder earlier and it was pathetic, but it was hard not to notice how wonderful Harry was. He was hardworking, intelligent, sweet, charitable, understanding and stupidly fucking handsome. He could cook too, apparently. Something her ex husband could never even attempt.

“Thank you for sharin’ all that with me.” His voice was even and smooth as he gave her a gentle smile. “I, for one, am glad you divorced him. I think you’re incredible. You don’t deserve someone who’ll step out on you. Let out multiple times.” It truly did piss him off. The man had a woman who was willing to give the world and still managed to be greedy for other women and fucked it up. “I’ve never really understood that sort of thing but, I think you’re too good for him anyways. Know you said you feel like you wasted your youth and by the risk of sounding a bit cliche, age is just a number in this instance. You can do anything you want now that you think you would have wanted to do back then. And..” He smirked slightly. “You look like you could still be in your twenties. So I wouldn’t worry too much about that. Him acting like aging is a sin in any situation is fucking dumb considering it’s something unavoidable and sorta beautiful if you ask me. Older, wiser, more experience. It’s a good thing. To me, at least.”

Y/N did know of his taste for older women and though she had no intention of bringing it up, she seemingly couldn’t keep her mouth shut tonight. Without permission from her mouth, the words fell out like a tumble. “Is that why you go for older women?”

The room fell silent for a minute and she could feel the return of the heat under her cheeks, eyes widening as she snapped her hand over her mouth. It wasn’t something she wanted him to know that she knew, but too fucking late now. His head tilted back up, eyes falling on her own wide ones before he let out a laugh. A reaction she hadn’t expected in the slightest. Her hand fell in a motion to try and apologize but he lifted his own to stop her, calming from the laughter as he shook his head.

“Fuck, M’sorry. I didn’t mean t’laugh, but you looked like you scared the shit out of yourself.” He giggled, running his fingers over the corners of his mouth as they curled into a smirk. “It’s fine. You don’t need to apologize. We’re both adults here.” A clear definition that he was definitely seeing himself on her level. “It’s okay t’ask me about, love. I’m fine talking about it. You just told me details about your divorce so this seems a little tame in comparison.”

As much as she hated herself for it, her stomach flipped at the term of endearment. Harry and her hadn’t spent much time alone before but he had never called her that before. Maybe it was a bit of a bond forming being alone with him. He’d always been a bit ahead of the others in terms of maturity. Not in a creepy way like Patrick used to say about her, but in a genuine hard working way. He’d taken his jobs, career, and promises seriously. It was hard not to know how reliable he was when people constantly used that word to describe him. Seeing him as more of an equal instead of his daughter’s friend was easy when they weren’t around. There was that old soul type of thing she liked.

“I obviously did not mean for that to come out of my mouth. But uh-” She ran a hand over her dress to self-soothe. “I heard them teasing about you and one of the mum’s of the kids Stacy teaches had been bragging about…” The woman didn’t need to finish her stance before Harry laughed through his nose, trying to hide his smirk.

“Ah.” He nodded, turning the heat off on the stove and pouring the sauce onto the chicken. “Yeah. I do, I’ve always preferred older women. I get teased for it but it’s just what I’m attracted to.” There was that thought in his mind though, wondering what the woman had been bragging about. He’d sure as hell fucked her well and thoroughly, but at the end of it he had opened his eyes and it wasn’t Y/N. It’s his common problem these days. Falling out of interest when he realized he was chasing a feeling from people that weren’t the object of his affections. “I went out with her once… went back to her place.” He shrugged. “It was alright. I was pretty up front about not being sure we clicked but she wanted me to come in, so…” He shrugged. The girl didn’t seem to have hard feelings when she texted him a few days later asking for a repeat and he declined because he was going to be here for a get together.

“Can I ask why?” Morbid curiosity, that’s what she would call it. It was killing her since she had found out though. Why does a young man, almost in his prime, go for older women specifically? Not that she didn’t think they weren’t worth that, but it wasn’t the norm. “If it’s not too personal.”

“You can get personal with me, Y/N. I don’t mind.” He clarified, dishing some rice into the pineapple bowls he’d carved out. “I think there’s a few aspects to it but I appreciate maturity. One of my first experiences was with someone a few years older than me and it kept going from there. I enjoy intelligent conversation. Someone who can keep up and not just talk about the things girls my age talk about. Nothing wrong with them at all, but every time I’ve tried dating someone my age it’s fallen flat. I enjoy dates at nice restaurants or at home. Cooking for them, listening to music. I work a lot, I’m not much for clubs. Even pub crawls have been a lot for me at times considering I work at a bar on the weekends, work all day in a garage. People my age don’t usually seem to understand or appreciate my work ethic but.. I want a house like this one day.” He motioned around the kitchen. “I’ve been saving loads of money, staying in my apartment and making sure I don’t spend crazily. I’ve always been a bit of a romantic, so I want t’provide for someone one day. Maybe that’s a little old fashioned but It’s fulfilling to me. Want to open my own garage, maybe multiple and… I dunno, older women have always been more receptive to my plans, to the way I am. And I’m not a huge texter. I like phone calls, seeing someone in person. Dating my age is a lot of that.”

It wasn’t a shock to her that his ethics would be a turn off for younger women who sometimes got a bit in their head about the attention they needed. It wasn’t a drag or anything of that nature, but a lot of younger women relied on that sort of thing. Texting all day that he obviously wouldn’t be able to do. They deserved the relationships they wanted but so did Harry. It was a surprisingly nice answer from him. He had lots of decent reasons that made her feel a little more intrigued than she should be, but she couldn’t help it. The man was alluring.

“And… permission to overshare a little bit?” He asked, wanting to test the waters. Y/N looked intrigued, nodding as she leaned on the counter. “Older women tend to be a bit more.. Compatible with me sexually. A bit more eager. Some are experienced but it isn’t really about that, it’s about knowing what you want. Being a little less shy in asking for what they want. Everyone’s different of course, but I find that a disappointing amount of men aren’t giving women what they want, and I’ve been happy to provide that. I’m a giver, it’s what I like. So…” His pink tongue ran over his bottom lip as he kept eye contact with her. “There’s that aspect of it too.”

Y/N could feel the slight throb between her legs as he spoke. There was no hint of shyness in his face as he spoke to her, just matter of fact. He had no shame, if anything he seemed.. A little smug. Something that oddly made her stomach flip and flutter as he pushed her plate towards her and settled on the opposite side of the island, sitting on the stool.

“I.. I can see that.” She murmured, knowing she must look a little flustered. Considering it had been years since she’d had sex, just the way he was looking at her was working her up a bit further than she would ever want to admit. “I think..” If he was oversharing, maybe she should too. Or maybe that was the slight buzz the wine had provided. “I’m still trying to learn what it is I want. I was only with one person my whole life and then… After the divorce I had a one night stand and it was not at all satisfying. I’ve meant to try and go on dates more often but the few I’ve been on just didn’t feel right.” It wasn’t something she talked about often at all. She had her two girlfriends she talked to about sex- or lack thereof- and the toys they got in order to satisfy what their dates couldn’t.

This little tidbit had Harry leaning in a bit closer, chewing the first bite of his food. It was surprisingly good for a recipe he’d found on a social media site, but he was far more interested in what Y/N had to say. “I mean it’s only natural, isn’t it? To be curious?” He waved his fork in the air. “Was he satisfying you in your marriage?” The look on her face was all he needed to see for an answer. Her lips pulled in and her gaze averted, he did feel a seedling of pity for the woman- but hope for himself. One man’s loss was another’s gain, wasn’t it? He would be able to actually pleasure her. He knew he could. He hadn’t failed yet, and there were genuine feelings there for her so… he had a lot of faith he’d be willing and able to please her. Half of the battle was just listening to her. Knowing what she wanted. “It’s okay, I can tell what your answer is. But m’sorry to hear that.” He frowned. “You deserved better than all of that. I know you don’t need me to tell you that, but you deserved a hell of a lot more for what he put you through.” Personally, Harry would never drop the ball like that.

Realistically, Y/N was his dream woman and this was without knowing what she liked in bed. Everything about her was perfect to him, all except the pesky fact that she was the mother of one of his friends- but honestly? He was willing to risk it. She was worth that sort of risk. She had the demeanor, the charm, the intelligence, and so far, the sort of lifepath that aligned with him. He had to talk his way into it a little bit more than likely, but he was ready to try.

“Thank you, Harry.” Y/N knew she probably looked a little flustered. She was. He was saying all the right things and she felt a weird level of comfort with him that she hadn’t experienced before. He was a man. Maybe he was younger than her, but he had a level head. He could cook. He worked multiple job, had ambitions, he knew what he wanted and he wanted to be a provider. Something that she found to be overwhelmingly sexy. She was noticing him in less than appropriate ways more and more. Like how cut his jaw was as he chewed his food, the scruff on his face, his strong, big hands. So fucking big, making the fork he held look small. His arms were built, flexing as he leaned against the countertop. The memory of his broad shoulders wasn’t too far from her brain either. “You’re… I haven’t spoken to a lot of people about that stuff. I don’t mean to take up too much of your time tonight, I know you must be tired after work but… I really appreciate you coming here, fixing my car, cooking. Talking to me. You’re great company.”

“Like I said earlier, I like being around you.” It felt like he could see into her soul. Green peering inside of her, spreading her open. “If m’being honest, there aren’t many other places I’d rather be. M’happy to help you with whatever you need.”

If Y/N was crazy, she’d think it was a double meaning. She’d overthink and imagine that he was implying something not so appropriate. Things that had her tummy flipping and cunt weeping. Pathetic, she knew that. Here she was, lusting after the younger man as he stared at her from across her kitchen. The sun had now set and the darkness was beginning to set in, and she wanted more than anything to take his hand and drag him upstairs to her bedroom but she had to clear her brain before she did something rash. “I enjoy spending time with you too.” Her smile was soft as she took her plate and brought it to the sink. “Just let me clean these dishes and then I’ll walk you to your car. You’ve been such a help tonight.”

Y/N felt a little shaky as she turned the water on and let it run over the dirty pan and the other dishes she hadn’t quite gotten to. As much as washing dishes was something people usually hated, the girl found it a little therapeutic. She’d just gotten into it, relaxing just a bit when she felt a hand curl around her hip, a cleared plate set into the sink and the other hand shutting the water off on her. “What-”

“I think we’re dancing around it now, Sweetheart.” He said lowly, cuffing his other hand on her waist. Her body stilled as he pressed himself into her, his confidence high as he watched her shaky hand drop the sponge. “I think there’s something we both want and you don’t know how to ask for. And that’s okay.” His nose brushed the shell of her ear as she closed her eyes, swallowing thickly. “I know that you haven't been taken care of. I know you weren’t satisfied in the ways you deserved. I meant it when I said that there’s nowhere else I’d rather be. Y’know that, right?”

“Harry, what are you doing?” Her voice was breathy as she clenched her over the counter but making no move to leave his grip.

“I’ve been after you for a while, Y/N. I think you pretend to not notice how I look at you. I think… you were a little jealous when you found out I took that mum from the swim group out and fucked her, because you wanted it to be you. But let me assure you… I wanted it to be you, too.” His heat spread along her back as his fingers moved to splay over her tummy, the same tummy that was a mess of butterflies just under his fingertips.

“You did?” While she should have been shutting this down considering this man was friends with her daughter… she couldn’t. Not when he was making her feel more listened to, more desired, more aroused than she had been since… well, possibly her whole life.

“Of course, love. To be honest, I was tryin’ to give you time to adjust. To be single, to find more of yourself. You’ve blossomed so much since I’ve known you. I knew you’d probably want t’reject me because of how you know me, but I just need a chance to prove to you that I can be what you need.” The chills on her skin were unavoidable as his lips smeared over her neck, groaning quietly as he inhaled. “You smell so fucking good, y’know that? Makes me crazy. No one else smells like you… I knew touching you would ruin me.” He pulled her further into him, laying the first kiss on the hinge of her jaw. “I’d be fucked. But I’ve been fucked for a while now. No distraction took away from the fact that any body under mine wasn’t you. Wasn’t the voice I wanted saying my name. I just want to show you that m’worth the risk.”

The low baritone of his voice was making her want to whimper. Soft, hot lips pressed a trail of gentle kisses down her throat that got progressively more wet, making her cunt follow. Leaning back into him, it was hard to fight when her body felt like it needed him. His hand pressing on her stomach, pushing her all the way back until she felt him. Her gasp was wet, a chuckle vibrated against her throat as he ground himself against her ass.

“I’d fill you up. Make you feel it all the way in here.” The pressure on her stomach suddenly made a flash of heat boil in her belly, imagining it. Craving it. It always felt like something was missing during sex anyways. “I know you need it. You need someone to worship you, to make you understand just how irresistible you are. I’ve been dying to do that for you. Makes me so fucking angry t’know the people who’ve had you haven’t pleasured you, made you unsatisfied while I was dreaming about just a fucking lick of you. Just a squeeze.” Her hand fell on top of his own, breathing a bit more labored as the length of him against her ass taunted her further.

“You were?” The woman knew she probably sounded a bit wrecked but she was. Harry was making her needy, desperation filling her chest in a way that almost overwhelmed her. She was hungry for more, more of his touch, his lips, his confessions.

“Mhm. Had t’get my fill in those little touches you’d give me. Running you hand over my back, brushing past me in the kitchen, grabbing my hand. I’ve been wanting to hold you like this. Kiss you until you can't breathe. Make you cum on my fingers, my tongue, my cock, make you melt just for me. S’that something you’d want, baby?” His teeth grazed her jaw getting a little whimper from her throat. “Hm? I’d like some words from you. I don’t mind doin’ most of the talking, but don’t leave me hanging.”

“I would- yeah. I would like that.” She was indeed panting. If she was a different woman she’d probably be ashamed over how much she was actually gagging for it, but there was something that made her truly believe that Harry could back up every single claim he said. “I haven’t been touched in so long but… you’ve made me feel so good already.” The admission made him smile against her skin, she could feel it. “Is this- do you just want sex?”

“No.” Her neck felt cold as he pulled away, manhandling her a bit and making her enjoy it far too much as she was turned and reversed in position to be facing him now. Her chin was grabbed between his fingers and his now dark eyes pinned her own. “S’not just a fuck to me. I like you, Y/N. Know it’ll be a little complicated considering the situation but to put it bluntly, I don’t give a fuck.” There was no room left for doubt with his words. “I want you. I’ve wanted you for fucking years, and unless you don’t want me, there’s nothing and no one else that’s gonna keep me from getting what I want.” When she failed to reply, he coaxed it from her. “C’mon, baby. Words.”

“I-I want that. I just didn’t know it was so serious for you.” She felt her cheeks flush at the intensity of it all. “It’s a good thing though… You’re making me a little dizzy.”

“Yeah?” He crooned. “A little dizzy? So fucking cute. I intend to do more than that, though.” Without another word, he took her mouth. Took it like he owned it, kissed her like it was already his.

Y/N melted into it immediately. Fell into the kiss and clutched his shirt to pull him closer as he made her brain empty of any thoughts but ones pertaining to him. How big his hands were, how easily he moved her around, how soft his lips were, how he tasted, the slight smell of motor oil underlying the fresh, clean smell that followed him over here. It was pathetic, maybe, to completely resign herself, to hand herself over to the younger man but… could anyone blame her?

Yes, he was younger. But he kissed like he had been hand plucked to be attached to her lips. His tongue brushed into her mouth and she moaned out loud, allowing him to kiss her any way he wanted. Y/N was touch starved and she knew it, but there was something electric about the way he held her. The way he kissed like he was starving, like he couldn’t get enough of her. His hand slipped down her back and greedily palmed her ass, squeezing it tight enough to make her whimper. It had been so fucking long since someone touched her like they knew what they were doing, like they knew what to do to make her feel good. Harry acted like she belonged to him already, pulling her leg up over his waist as he pressed her into the counter. “Hop up.” he whispered against her lips, using his hands to cuff her waist and tug her right up on the countertop.

Immediately her legs were spread and his body was between them. While he was somewhat lean, he was broad. His arms were big, his hands were too. She had to spread a bit and let her dress ride up as he manhandled her, yanking her back so she was right up against him. The sweetest whimper left her lips and translated to his, making him pull back to look down at her. Her smeared lip gloss and wide, glossy eyes looking up at him. Hair a little messy when it was usually styled, she looked… alive. The way he wanted her to feel with him. “M’gonna spread you open and get a taste, because I’ve been fucking dying for it for years.” He told her bluntly. “But just a taste. I’ll spend hours between these perfect damn thighs tonight… but I need to be inside of you.” He felt like he toed the line between unhinged and the most control he ever had. The man knew what he wanted, he told her what she was going to get, and yet he felt like he had never been more passionate about something in his life. Finally getting the chance to be with the woman he wanted was something that he had been counting down the days for. Nothing could stop him from doing this.

“Yes, please. I want you… I want you to take over.” She swallowed. It wasn’t always this way. Sometimes Y/N enjoyed the idea of being on top, enjoyed teasing, enjoyed the thought of being in charge for a little bit- but never in her life had she wanted a man to just do whatever the fuck he wanted. It was because she knew he would know how to please her.

That assumption wasn’t wrong.

Seeing the man get on his knees in front of the counter, ordering her to take the dress off and toss it to the side to expose her plain cotton bra and underwear, maybe she should feel a little apprehensive- but the only thing she felt was needy. Desperate. Wanted. The look in his eye told her that he wanted her and he wanted her more desperately than she even knew. His lips kissed over her knees and upper thighs, obviously pacing himself as his fingers tugged the waistband of her panties and slowly peeled them off her body.

Harry wished he spent a bit more time admiring her. He wished he had the self control at this point to not just pull her to the edge of the counter and take a thick lick over her glistening cunt and nuzzle his face into it regardless of the fact he was getting wet- but he didn’t. He pulled her up and onto his tongue, getting the delicious little gasp he had been dying to hear. Manicured nails gripped the countertop behind her and buried in his hair, wet gasps leaving her mouth. Garbles of his name and calling to god, but he was busy. Getting her flavor on every inch of his taste buds and committing it to memory, dipping his tongue into her entrance and lapping up to her clit where he sucked lightly, he was self serving. This was for him and she was reaping the benefits.

“Oh my f-fucking god.” Y/N said in disbelief, watching green meet her eyes as his nose nudged her clit. “Oh, you’re so fucking good, Harry. Holy fuck.” It was hard to comprehend that this man was on his knees for her when just a few nights ago he had been helping her set out snacks for their friend group as they had a hang out at the pool. Seeing him as the man he was, she couldn’t believe she’d never seen him in this light- not seriously. He had completely blown her expectations out of the water as his tongue flicked over her entrance, pressing against it and making her curse repeatedly.

The sound of a belt clanking on the floor was mostly ignored- but his fingers inside of her weren’t. In fact, she teared up slightly at the feeling. “Yes, fucking… finger me, feel me.” She growled, her thighs pressing him closer. He had no problems, humming against her as he played with her clit and opened her up with his fingers- surely for her benefit considering he had felt quite impressive against her ass. “Shit, I can’t believe this.” The laugh was quickly melded into a moan as he pulled her clit back into his mouth and added a second finger.

Harry shook his head into her cunt. He felt her clench around his fingers and the sounds of pleasure above him, and he didn't want to stop but if he didn’t, he was positive he was going to blow his load all over the kitchen floor. There was no bothering to wipe his chin as he stood back up, gripping her face for another deep kiss. “M’obsessed. Tastes even better than I expected… You’re never going to get me away from it.” He wasn’t even joking. He would gladly call off his shift from the bar tomorrow if it meant getting to spend that time tasting her. “But I need to get inside of you. I need to make you cum around my cock.” He went to get his wallet from his pocket but was surprised when she stopped him.

“I’m clean. I’ve- I’ve been tested and I’m on birth control-” Harr interrupted her with a loud groan, fisting his cock in his hand as his pants fell to his ankles.

“Thank fuck.” He laughed. “This may be over quickly, but this isn’t the last time I’m in you. I want to make you cum over and fucking over- but I don’t want to waste my load on the floor when it’s better suited inside of you.” He watched her to answer, but he was pushing in before she got a word in.

“Oh- shit.” Y/N clutched him, looking at him with wide eyes as he sunk into her. Mouth hanging open, she adjusted to the stretch as his head dropped against hers and he kept her eye contact as he sunk in inch by inch. Their breathing mingling as the feeling encompassed both of them. “Oh my god- you’re so fucking big.” Her voice was unfamiliar to herself, sulky and whiny with the pleasure she felt from being stretched.

“I know, baby.” He grinned, holding on to the nape of her neck. “You’ll get used to it.” Without another word, he pulled out to thrust back in. The process was repeated as her hot, slippery cunt clenched around his cock and tried desperately not to give it up each and every time.

It was, again, better than he imagined. Nothing could have prepared him for how good it would be to sink into the perfect hole, how she would grip him and suck in deeper. How she’d soak him and how her fingers would dig into his arm, how all he’d be able to see and smell and taste was her. It completely engulfed him and he had no urge to do anything but stay right here. “Okay?” He checked on her as he ground himself into her, her clit brushing over the hair right above his cock and getting it wet.

“I’m so good.” She slurred, lost in how good it felt to have him inside of her. “I’m so full.” It was insane to her, knowing how she had been treated last time. Even with his direct approach, she’d never felt more cared for, more appreciated. He was working with her, checking in, all while making the first moves that made her feel like he had been hand made for her. “Go harder. I can take it.”

Y/N had never been fucked the way she wanted and that had been apparent to Harry. He just had a feeling and he knew that she was going to need him in ways she hadn’t experienced. Ways he was more than happy to deliver. “I’ll give you anything you want, Baby.” His nose brushed against hers. “Just make sure to scream my name nice n’loud when you cum for me.”

It was unlike sex that she thought was real. Y/N held on to Harry as he plowed into her, his grip on her tight as his eyes looked down at where they were connected. It was wet, so fucking wet and creamy all over the base of his cock that she hadn’t known she could do. Her thighs were spread out and over his forearms as he fucked into her like it was his one and only job, whimpering out his name as he gave it to her the way she’d needed. “I knew you’d b-be able to give me what I wanted.” Her words were jostled as her body was, but he replied with another hot kiss.

Messy, full of tongue and wet, she relished in his desperate need to taste her again. It didn’t matter that her chin was wet or she was getting bruised on her hips, she’d finally felt fulfilled in sex. “Yeah? Y’knew I’d be able to give it to you?” He crooned. “M’glad you knew, because I plan on being the only one doing it.” The words were completely serious and possessive and Y/N loved it. Feeling this level of desire was brand new to her and she didn’t want to give it up.

“Uh-huh, I- I want you to be the one to give it to me.” As wrong as some people may see it, this was the epitome of a man. Even if he was younger- he had a plan, he had two jobs he’d held for years, a place of his own… He had more than some people her own age. Dedication and loyalty like his were irreplaceable. Maybe she was crazy in indulging in this, in allowing him to have her, but after wasting years with a man who didn’t want her- she wasn’t going to turn away someone who obviously desired her, wanted to worship her- and made her feel like she wanted to do the same back.

“Good. I wasn’t planning on letting anyone else get a taste. You’re going to be my woman, this is going to be my pussy, M’gonna keep making you feel good. I don’t care who has shit to say about it.” He grunted, pressing theirs mouths together again as he felt her get close. The rippling around his cock and her soft whimpers against his mouth, her hand gripping him hard, he was close to finally fulfilling his fantasy. His dream girl letting go around him and making a mess. “I can feel it, y’know. Feel how you’re gonna cum for me.” He panted against her mouth.

Y/N felt lightheaded in the best way, her body tingling and the pressure in her stomach building with each scrape of his tip against the spot no one else had reached- or even bothered to look for. Harry was perceptive and keen on her, about to make her orgasm from penetration for the very first time. In all her years she had thought something was wrong, but it turned out that she’d just been with shit people. Her ex husband, the attempts at hook ups, they had no idea how to work her body… But Harry? It seemed like he’d written the manual from the first time he touched her. The only thing she could think about was the pleasure and how good he looked giving it to her.

Lips swollen and teeth grit, vein on his neck visible, his arms flexed as he railed her. It was like fucking her was his purpose, and fuck- he was fulfilling it. “I am.” She breathed, the tension getting tighter in her stomach. Again, those tears rose in her eyes as each thrust jolted the pleasure inside of her. “I am, I’m gonna cum for you Harry.” Remembering at the last minute that he wanted her to say his name, she sure as hell gave it to him. “Please, Harry…. Just keep fucking me, give it to me, you’re right where I n-need.” It was right there, she could fucking taste it. “Harry, Harry-”

“Cum for me.” He coaxed. “C’mon, baby. First of many, show me how you cum on my cock. Get me nice and wet- fuck, you’re gorgeous.” The man was in awe of how beautiful she was, but even more about how good it felt as she began to finish on his prick. Her mouth dropping and her eyes watering as she let out a slew of cusses, the quivering of her cunt making it hard to hold on. “Fucking beautiful, that’s my girl. F-Fuck.”

Y/N felt like she was floating. Pleasure hit every nerve, white hot and tingling. She had no idea what was coming out of her mouth but she felt the burn in her eyes as a tear fell down her cheek, clinging to him as each thrust got that sweet spot and made her tremble in his arms. He didn’t stop, the dark noises he made only spurring her on further. She was wet and she knew she must have completely soaked him. The wet sounds had gotten louder and the way he had groaned let her know she had to have gushed around his cock. “Harry, Harry- H, oh my god.” She bleated, nails digging into his arm. The constant stimulation was only making her more wet and he seemed to be loving it.

Harry was drunk on the feeling, his own orgasm trailing right behind hers as he worked her through it. She’d made a mess, one he was happy to have all over his skin. The scent of her on him would be his reward, her marks even more so. “M’gonna cum.” He growled. “Where? Where do y’want my cum, baby? Tell me where you want it.”

“Inside. Inside me, please, give it to me there.” Her legs wrapped around him tighter, making it nearly impossible for him to pull out- like he’d ever want to. His balls tightened at the words, eyes blazing as he looked down at her face. She seemed just as far gone as him, the suction of her soaked channel making him feel borderline insane.

“You- Fuck, Yeah? You want me to give you my load in that perfect cunt?” His grip on her tightened, sure to leave bruises but that was a problem for a later time. It had been a fantasy of his forever, his spunk dripping from her swollen pussy and now she wanted it- was begging for it. There was no mistaking her rapid nod, head tipped up at him as she whispered ‘please, please, please, give it to me’ and fuck, Harry was only so strong.

He did exactly as asked, his sloppy thrusts hard as he grunted while coming to his end. It flashed over his vision as the loudest groan left his swollen lips, hips stuttering as he buried deep and let loose. Spurts of cum leaving his tip as he unloaded inside of her, the pulsing of his prick felt by both of them as he emptied his balls of every drop of cum. Claiming her, marking her in a symbolic way and the way he’d always been desperate to do.

There was little hesitation as he took her mouth again, giving her a deep kiss. Tongue running over the roof of her mouth before sucking on her tongue, the most unhinged kiss he’d felt in his life as she clung to him and her cunt continued to milk him of every little bit. “Fuck.” He laughed in disbelief against her mouth. He was coated in a light sheen of sweat, Y/N’s hair was a mess and he was still snugly wrapped up in her as he gently moved her back so she was more comfortable on the counter. His hand came up to stroke her cheek, watching her hazy eyes look back into his own. This was his wet dream come true, but Y/N had no idea the man she had just unleashed. He was just… happy. Satisfied, motivated and fucking happy. This wasn’t just a fuck for him. “Meant what I said.” His voice was hoarse as he fawned over her, adjusting her hair so it didn’t stick to her forehead. “M’gonna keep you. This isn’t a one and done and I plan on treating you the way you’ve always fuckin’ deserved.” His lips sampled hers again, feeling her arms come up over his shoulders as she reciprocated. “You’re my dream woman, Y/N. M’gonna make sure m’your dream man.”

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room-surprise · 3 months

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How Old Is Thistle?

(EDIT: I've made a follow-up post to this one that goes deeper into the math and additional evidence that the 5:1 ratio is correct. You can read it here!)

I've seen people debating this and a lot of folks insisting that Thistle is a child, and since Thistle just debuted in the anime, I wanted to do a full write-up to help myself and others figure this out.

We don't know how old any of the Merini family members are exactly, so the best we can do is guess based on the information we have, but after carefully studying the manga, I think Thistle is at least a teenager, but much more likely a young adult, and definitely not a prepubescent child.

Here's what we know:

EDIT: Depending on what translation you read of some of the extra materials, Freinag implies that Thistle is the same age as some of his advisors.

Here's a detailed translation of this panel from my friend Fumi:

Elves age 5 times slower than tall-men.

16 year old tall-men in Dungeon Meshi's medieval time period are adults, they commonly join the military, get married, have children, etc.

An 80 year old elf is an adult. Pattadol is 82 and she's a lieutenant in a military unit. It's her first job and she's obviously a rookie, but Captain Flamela tells Pattadol to accomplish her mission or die trying.

Many fully adult elves look like what we might consider children or young teens, because they're short, petite, and have androgynous features.

An average elven adult is around 150-155cm tall (5 ft), meaning some are shorter than that, and some are taller. Thistle is 130 cm, which is short, but not unheard of.

Fleki is 130 (26) years old and she's 140 cm tall (4'7")

Otta is 137 (27) years old and she's 130 cm (4'5") tall, the same height as Thistle!

They are both women, but there's probably plenty of elven men in their height range.

Just so we can compare Thistle to some adult elven men, Mithrun and his brother are probably adults (or close to it) in the panel on the left.

Mithrun (in this image) is somewhere between 75 and 144 (probably in his 80's), and his brother is older than him (so he could be in his late 80s or 90s). As you can see, they don't look that different from Thistle, Otta or Fleki.

So, how old is Thistle?

(Spoilers below the cut)

Thistle was brought to the royal court as a child (found on the street, stolen or purchased, we don't know how they got him). At the absolute youngest I'd guess Thistle is 25 years old here (so about 5 years old for a tall-man.) He can already play the flute, and possibly the lute, and most children that aren't prodigies can't handle playing an instrument (physically or mentally) until they're around 5.

EDIT: We now know that Thistle is the same age as Freinag, the king that takes him in! So Thistle must be at least 25 years old in this comic, though realistically he could be anywhere from 25 to 40 based on how Kui drew Freinag.

He lived in the court for an unknown amount of time, Freinag hasn't changed much but Thistle appears to have aged a little, so let's say it's been 5 years and Thistle is 30 (6) when Delgal is born. More than 5 years could have passed, but I'm trying to keep the numbers low.

Delgal gets married and has a child. Delgal should be at least 15 at this point, but since he has a full mustache before his wedding, I think he's in his 20's, since teenagers tend to not be the best at growing robust facial hair.

(He has a full beard by the time Eodio's a young child.)

Thistle puts the kingdom inside the dungeon around this point, however, people are still aging: Delgal's grandson Yaad is born, and Eodio is clearly a young adult here, probably in his 20's. Therefore, there is NO REASON to assume Thistle stopped aging. "The dungeon lords don't age" is a common fan headcanon I've seen people spreading, but it has no clear canon basis.

Yaad ages until he looks about 13-15 years old, and at this point all of the people of the kingdom and Thistle appear to stop aging, and 1,000 years pass.

So, the youngest Thistle could possibly be, if he was 30 (6) when Delgal was born, if Delgal was 15 when he had Eodio, and Eodio was 15 when he had Yaad, and Yaad is 13 years old...

Is 73 years old, which would make Thistle about 14.6 years old by tall-man standards.

HOWEVER, I think it's VERY unlikely that all the characters are that young.

I think it's clear from Kui's drawings that Delgal and Eodio are not 15 years old when they become fathers, and that Freinag is at least 25 when he takes in Thistle.

If we assume Thistle was 30 when Delgal was born, and Delgal and Eodio were both at least 20 when they had children, even if Yaad is only 13 years old, that makes Thistle at least 83 years old (16.6), and makes him older than Pattadol, who is an adult at 82.

However, I think it's entirely possible that Thistle was anywhere from 40-50 when Delgal was born, and Delgal could have been anywhere from 20 to 30 when he had Eodio, and Eodio could have been anywhere from 20-25 when he had Yaad. If you use the maximum ages, and assume Yaad is 15, then Thistle could be as old as 120 (24).

I think a reasonable middle ground is assuming Thistle was 30 (6) when Delgal was born, Delgal had Eodio at 25, Eodio had Yaad at 20, and Yaad is 15... Which would make Thistle 90 (18) years old.

This of course says nothing about Thistle's emotional maturity or sanity, he's obviously stunted in some ways, but the point I want to make here is:

Thistle's age could be anywhere from 14.6 to 24 at the most extreme, but more realistically he's somewhere between 16.6 and 18.

And that's not even counting the thousand years that he's lived since then!

And that's all I've got to say about that 🙏🙏🙏🙏

(EDIT: Follow-up post with additional evidence here.) EDIT 2: I've seen a lot of people talking about the page Kui drew talking about elven earmuffs. It's considered just barely okay for Pattadol to wear them, but it's ok for Thistle to wear them... In which case I'd say Thistle could be any age younger than 83. That's handy as it knocks out some of the older ages!

So in that case Thistle's age is between 73 years old and 82, which makes him developmentally between 14.6 and 16.4!

#dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #dunmeshi #dungeon meshi spoilers #Thistle #Thistle Merini #thistle dungeon meshi #thistle delicious in dungeon #sissel #spoilers #theories

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chrisevansonly · 6 months

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𝐃𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐋𝐨𝐰 | 𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨 𝐍𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐬

ʚsmau

ʚlando norris x female reader

ʚnothing better than a little soft launch with your favourite boy around

ʚthis was requested thank you for everyone who is sending in ideas! i love them all!

ʚface claim is cyrielle verstuyft

yninstagram

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, landonorris, dior and 79,000 others

wedding season & the sweetest little friend🥰

see 7,000 comments

username that dress is everything!!

alexandrasaintmleux gorgeous girl😘

>yninstagram says you baby❤️‍🔥

username look at the mini pony 🥹

username lando in the likes..?

landonorris nice😊

>yninstagram thank you 😁

carlossainz55 😊😊😊😊😊😊😊

>yninstagram that’s a lot of smiles carlos…

>carlossainz55 what? no it’s a normal amount

>landonorris mate it’s not

>username WHAT IS HAPPENING

landonorris

liked by yninstagram, maxfewtrell, mclaren and 654,000 others

wedding season has begun

see 15,000 comments

username wait a second…

username i swear i saw that pony somewhere

yninstagram nice 😊

>landonorris thank you😁

maxfewtrell you two are insufferable

*comment deleted*

username DID YOU SEE MAX’S COMMENT BEFORE IT DELETED?!

>username I THINK LANDO AND THIS GIRL ARE TOGETHER

mclaren as usually looking dapper mr.norris

danielricciardo 😏😏😏😏

liked by landonorris

yninstagram added to their story!

*comments disabled*

waggossip

liked by formulagossip, yninstagram, wagnews and 6,700 others

rumoured girlfriend of mclaren formula 1 driver lando norris, y/n y/l/n has been spotted in Monaco for the grand prix this weekend! eagle eyed fans spotted the pairs similar photos at a wedding recently as well as comments between lando’s friends on their posts! all we know is she studies political science and minors in women and gender studies at university in Paris! she also models with pierre gasly’s girlfriend kika!

see 1,500 comments

username she’s so pretty!!

username how do we even know if they are actually together 💀

username lando got himself a girlboss

yninstagram wow you guys are fast😭

>username HEY QUEEN

>username so are the rumours true..?

>yninstagram 🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️

landonorris

liked by quadrant, yninstagram, charles_leclerc and 876,000 others

monaco baby let’s go 😎

see 67,000 comments

username OH HELLO

username hubba hubba🤤🤤

mclaren oh yeah baby😎

yninstagram wow

>landonorris you okay?

>yninstagram uh huh yeah totally

username y/n in the comments😭

carlossainz55 i think you forgot to shave

>landonorris you think you’re so funny😐

yninstagram

liked by landonorris, francisca.cgomes, maxfewtrell and 100,000 others

monaco i’ve missed you!

see 45,000 comments

username SLAYING

username lando is one lucky ass man tbh

liked by landonorris

landonorris yeah tbh idc anymore she’s all mine

liked by yninstagram

landonorris beautiful baby❤️

>yninstagram i love you silly boy😘

username lando said fuck it she’s mine😭

maxfewtrell well carlos owes me $150 😁

>carlossainz55 yeah yeah

>username cross over of the century 💀💀

francisca.cgomes stunning!!!

>yninstagram love you❤️‍🔥

landonorris added to their story!

*comments disabled*

yninstagram added to their story!

*comments disabled*

landonorris

liked by yninstagram, rebeccadonaldson, apmmonaco and 324,000 others

two types of people at the country club😁

tagged yninstagram

see 56,000 comments

username look at y/n and then lando…HOW

>yninstagram you’d be surprised he’s very charming

>username LANDO HAS RIZZ?

>yninstagram a lot 😁

username is love these two together 😌

yninstagram at least i didn’t get us kicked out

>yninstagram you’re still cute though baby❤️

>landonorris 😁🥰

username lando is the type of person i’d imagine to get kicked out of a country club tbh

yninstagram

liked by landonorris, lilyhme, oscarpiastri81 and 104,000 others

the city of love with my love, nothing better than this ❤️

tagged landonorris

see 32,000 comments

username these photos are so cute 😭

username ‘the city of love with my love’ i think ill cry😭

landonorris i love you so much

landonorris my favourite girl in the world ❤️

>yninstagram you’re my favourite boy in the world🥰

lilyhme okay i’m obsessed with you

>yninstagram wanna go out?

>lilyhme um yes!!!😍

>alexalbon HUH

>landonorris😃😃😃😃

*why are smau’s so hard for me now 😭😭 someone give me a new brain*

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reality-detective · 4 months

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Brigham Buhler on the Dark History of the Medical Industrial Complex

"There was a small little company that reached out to the Third Reich and said, 'Hey, we need 150 participants for our clinical trial.' The nazi regime shipped 150 healthy jewish women to this pharmaceutical company to test its products. Literally, within six months, there's letters back to the Third Reich from this pharmaceutical company saying, 'Thank you so much for your cooperation. The women arrived in great health and working order. Unfortunately, none of them made it through the initial phases of our trial.' They killed 150 women. 'We kindly request that you send us another 150 women.' That little company became Bayer which is now a mega pharmaceutical company." 🤔

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hotvintagepoll · 1 month

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Propaganda

Diana Sands (A Raisin in the Sun The Landlord)—Every role she had she was sensuous and earthy. She may have been one of the most beautiful women to walk this Earth. She looked so natural in her roles. I can't understand how you can look at her and not fall in love at least a little bit.

Claudia Cardinale (The Leopard, 8 ½, Sandra)— she is just so incredibly stunning and her roles helped define the ideal of the south italian beauty. the pout that launched a thousand ships

This is round 2 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Diana Sands propaganda:

youtube

Claudia Cardinale propaganda:

"She was in more than 150 movies, spoke at least 4 languages (including arabic, as she was raised in Tunisia) and had international appeal. She started her career in Italy where she worked with the most acclaimed directors of the 1960' before moving to the states. There, she befriended Barbra Streisand, Rock Hudson and Steve McQueen but she grew bored of America (sorry !) and came to Europe where she continued her career well into the 2000'."

Gifset 1

Gifset 2

Gifset 3

"She was my bi awakening back when i was 14yo and classic film nerd. (((And i want her to represent italian beauty because i failed to submit her fellow Gian Maria Volonté on time for the hot men poll))) I've seen images of her/heard of the hullaballoo she caused not just in Italy but across Europe at least, way more than I've seen movies she's in (UNTIL NOW) so I'm far from an expert but I couldn't risk her not being in this poll. Behold her:

#claudia cardinale #diana sands #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 2 #Youtube

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whoishotteranimepolls · 1 month

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Fandom Observation Nicknames and Funny Tags: Part Jujutsu Kaisen

To add to my fandom behaviors and trends series. I thought it would share some of the funny or slutty nicknames some of the fandoms have given to their characters because trust me some had me laugh out loud and deserve more attention due to the creativity. Not just the nicknames. The tags have also been something to behold. But just in case that's not your thing, I did put a break in the post so expand at your own risk

Now let me make myself perfectly clear this is not meant to shame or call anyone out. I am genuinely impressed with the creativity and you guys made me laugh. So again in my opinion these were too good just to be lost in the tags or in the anonymous messages, several you sent me.

So, let's start with Jujutsu Kaisen because that fandom is the best when it comes to nicknames and absolutely hilarious tags. So here are some of my favorites and they have at least one for every character

Kento Nanami: The Linkedin Daddy, The eldest daughter's dream man, " When you're tired of trying to fix him and now want a man that can fix you", The malewife, "The smutty wolf of Wall Street," "A man that could make a housewife out of anyone", Nanami 'i break walls with creeps and kneel for women' Kento," & Corporate Bae.

Gojo: "The unstable himbo", Everything the youngest child has ever dreamed of, The I could fix him (no one can fix him), A little freak affectionate

Geto: The "mentally ill genocidal pookie", "a DILF that fathered so hard he mothered", The middle child's dream man, & Precious baby girl who has done nothing wrong in their entire life (has literally committed terrorism and murder), "my princess with disorders."

Toji Fushiguro: "A horrible father that just happens to be unreasonably hot", Darling dirtbag, Extra wide blorbo, Precious beef cake, it would be worth the STD, hear me out the worm offers some interesting possibilities, my precious darling deadbeat, babygirl, The things I would let him do to me,

Choso: "His sunken eyes and depressed swag have captivated me", my little emo boy, "he is a beautiful angel and i want to sit on his face until he drowns in my p**** juice", pookie, big handsome kitty, baby daddy, mr. rideable nose, 150 y/o virgin.

Mahito: A "beloved princess with a disorder", "When you just want to freak who's objectively a monster"

Sukuna: "When you're down for atrocities", I might not survive but it would be worth it & Four armed daddy,

Yuki Tsukumo: "My tall and buff queen", & dommy mommy with a motorcycle.

I think everyone can tell the fandom favorites and if I see any more in the future I will add them. But I hope at least someone gets a laugh out of these and thank you to the people who put these nicknames or phrases in the comments, tags and multiple anonymous messages received.

And just in case you're feeling called out JJK fandom this is just part 1 of a series. I have multiple other fandoms posts started in the draft box

#poll analysis #not a poll #jjk #fandom trends #fandom culture #fandom #nicknames and funny tags

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chiriwritesstuff · 3 months

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Random Headcanons from Random Characters in 'The Girl in IT' Pt. 1 - Joel

I'm breaking this into parts because my Headcanon lists are pretty extensive - this doesn't even break the surface for the ones I have about Joel. These are just the better ones, iykwim. Let me know if you would be interested in Sugar's list!

Ever since Joel moved into his new home (that he built himself), he goes to the farmers market on the weekend to buy Sunflower bouquets to put around the house, and he smiles every time he sees them on his dining table. This is the house he builds for Sugar - as mentioned in Pt. 4 "Gooey", to be explained further in 'Love, Joel' Pt. 3.

Joel, a self-proclaimed bad cook, took night classes to learn how to cook. Ellie doesn't like to eat fast food and always wants quality time with The Millers, so Joel made it a priority to learn for her. Sarah teases him about how it worked out for the best - now he can impress Sugar with his culinary skills. He's pretty good at it, because he's meticulous with most things in his life.

He goes to therapy - in solidarity to Sugar, who has gone to therapy for her entire life. It has helped him tremendously and is the reason why he eventually adopts Ellie.

Even if Joel has waited for Sugar for ten years, it doesn't mean that he didn't date - he did, and hated every moment of it. None of the women people tried to set him up with held a candle to Sugar, and he felt terrible for even considering another relationship every time.

He's a boxer briefs kind of guy.

He sings and dances in the shower. He uses a combination of Pandora Radio and Spotify - Ellie curates all of his playlists, including cover art.

The chambray shirt he wore to Sugar's birthday when she turned 26 is the same shirt he wore for her when she turned 36. In fact, he bought it at the TJ Maxx, just for her.

Sugar would write Joel little post it notes when she would give him things like water and lunch when he worked on her family's roof - and he kept every. single. one.

Joel is a reluctant millionaire - even if he worked his ass off, he's still pretty humble with the things he spends his money on (with the exception of Sugar). He drives an F-150, wears the same flannel shirts he's had for years, and uses the first iPad pro model - the big one- to redline construction documents. The one thing he does splurge on is instruments - buying anything Ellie asks for at the Guitar Center without the bat of an eye.

Speaking of guitars, Joel learned how to play Sugar's favorite song - 'Silver Springs' by Fleetwood Mac.

Joel keeps his hair long and curly just because of the one time Sugar commented on how he looks "dashing - like Don Juan" once in passing. The first movie they watched together was "Don Juan DeMarco". He also learned how to play 'Have You Ever Really Loved a Woman' by Bryan Adams and played it for Sugar. This is the moment she realized she loved him.

Joel has one tattoo, a small sunflower on his hand - where Pedro has his bullseye. It's the same place where sugar kissed when he nicked himself fixing their roof.

The song Joel sang for Sugar:

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beautifulblooms · 9 months

Note

you know what’s going down can i get a little crack as a treat, please? specifically: throwing a slice of cheese at könig’s hood like he’s a cat? thank you pookie bear xx

König is the cheese cat - absolute crack with male reader

enjoy this at most 150 words of crack of König getting hit with cheese like a cat and being his boyfriend

CIS Women and Female Aligned people, please DNI, this story and all of my others are for non-binary, masculine aligned and male readers!

(Y/n): walking around the KorTac base with a slice of American cheese in hand

Horangi: “what the hell do you have that for?”

(Y/n): “watch” continues to walk towards König

König: “oh, hallo liebling? What do you have th-“

(Y/n): throws slice of cheese straight at König’s face so it sticks to his mask

Horangi: smacks hand on table while laughs like a dying hyena

(Y/n): now running from his boyfriend cause he done fucked up but it was funny

König: “(y/n)! Komm hierher zurück!” actively chasing his boyfriend through the base

(Y/n): “WORTH IT!!”

#male reader #male reader fanfic #x male reader #mlm account #nblm account #konig mw2 #könig #konig x reader #konig x male reader #könig x male reader #könig fanfiction #könig call of duty #könig cod #könig x reader #könig mw2 #call of duty

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fereldanwench · 2 months

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apropos of nothing and certainly not my tag rant from a few posts back

did you know that out of 150 popular video games released between 1985 and 2022, only 6% of them feature sole female protagonists?

did you know that prior to mass effect 3, female shepard was never used in any promotional material for the series?

(and there's no hard data available on this, but i very distinctly recall a lot of gamerbro outrage when me3 had an optional reversible cover so you could pick between male and fem shep on your personal game)

did you know that only 18% of players chose femshep in any shape or form (default or customized) during the original release?

(anecdotally, i know a few people who didn't even realize you could play a female at all in me1 bc of how the cc is setup)

did you know with the release of the legendary edition in 2021 the percentage of femshep players didn't even double (despite jennifer hale's seemingly enormous popularity amongst the broader playerbase over the past decade) and is reported at 32%?

did you know that dragon age inquisition has the same breakdown between male and female inquisitors (68% to 32% respectively)?

did you know during the playtests for assassin's creed odyssey, it was a 50/50 split between kassandra and alexios, and ubisoft suits actually thought when the game was released, kassandra would be more popular? and yet once again, about 70% of players chose the male protag

did you know evie and aya were both supposed to have a much larger roles in assassin's creed syndicate and origins but were forced into a smaller role bc the ubisoft marketing team didn't think the games would sell well with a female lead?

cdpr hasn't released data on male vs female v, probably because the game handles gender a little differently than just two strict options like many other rpgs, but it was revealed that panam was the most popular romance, sitting at about 68%, which means at least 68% of players chose the male v body. I'm sure some players did not make that choice as a cis male v, but i would also guess that those who didn't are a small minority of this demographic, and if you factor in kerry romancers, this split is probably very similar to other games in the genre

now i realize that a lot of the male v players who are in more transformative fandom spaces (like tumblr) are not the str8 gamer dudebros of reddit angry about pores on a female character's face and whatnot. i realize that a lot of you are also on the outskirts of the perceived norm and also feel under-represented by mainstream male protags and that's incredibly frustrating and alienating and i genuinely feel for you

but female protagonists and female gamers who want to play as female protagonists and who have a few niche spaces to celebrate female protags are not the reason for your lack of representation

and frankly you don't sound a whole lot different from the angry incel gamer boys when you say shit like "fem v gets too much attention"

so maybe try advocating for male protags who don't fit the generic boring gruff white guy mold without throwing women under the bus. we're should be allies in this fight, not rivals

#t: wench.txt #leaving reblogs on as long as ppl behave #but i will come down hard with the block button on bad faith replies to this

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marybeatriceofmodena · 1 year

Note

A'ight, what is it about Anne Brontë and Tenant of Wildfell Hall? I keep seeing stuff about how Anne is the unproblematic Brontë sister and that's what kept me away from her books lol

*kracks knuckles* All right. So, remember how the Brontë sisters wrote three novels simultaneously? Charlotte wrote The Professor, Emily wrote Wuthering Heights, and Anne wrote Agnes Grey. The two latter got picked up by publishers, but The Professor was rejected, so Charlotte finished up Jane Eyre and sent it to a publisher, who accepted it immediately and had it published before Wuthering Heights and Agnes Grey got printed. All three of them wrote under pen names (Charlotte was Currer Bell, Anne was Acton Bell, and Emily was Ellis Bell), because they knew their novels were, say, a little controversial, and that if it was known they were women, their characters would be judged and immediately associated to their works. So needless to say, they were VERY supportive of each other, because they knew no one else would. (Their father was also supportive, but they published their novels without telling him at first but once they did, he was very encouraging, thankfully.)

It's easy to see why Jane Eyre or Wuthering Heights would be considered controversial in their day (they still kind of are today given the Discourse(tm), lol). Agnes Grey, while it didn't do as well as JE and WH, was criticized for being a little too... let's say, honest about a governess' day-to-day life, when Anne wrote it drawing from her own experiences as a governess. The thing with Anne is that people find her stuff a little moralizing, but it was in her best interest to present Agnes as virtuous given how she made little secret of how poorly governesses could be treated, since it wasn't that rare they'd be accused of profiting from the families they were employed by, when there were abuse cases more often than not.

Then The Tenant of Wildfell Hall came out, and that's when criticism started to fly. May Sinclair (an early 20th century suffragist) would later write that the scene where Helen (the main character of the novel) slams her door to her husband's face had a reveberation that was heard throughout England. It's the story (in case you don't mind getting spoiled for a 150-year-old book) of a lady who marries a Victorian fuckboy called Huntington, ends up in an abusive household where her only comfort is her son, and once she realizes that her husband is becoming a bad influence on her child, she leaves him and manages to hide in a house that her brother is willing to rent to her, while she tries to earn a small living by painting. And people lost their shit, because according to them, Helen was a bad woman for leaving her husband, even though she did it to, you know, get her son out of a toxic environment. If Charlotte criticized anything about the novel, it's that she thought some aspects of Huntington were depicted too graphically, but they mostly had to do with his alcoholism and his adultery (this is important: those critcisms have nothing to do with Helen, or how Tenant is shade thrown at Charlotte and Emily's works). That might have been because Anne got some inspiration for Huntington from Branwell, their brother, who was also an alcoholic and got fired from his job as a tutor for having an affair with the lady of the house. Charlotte was pretty fed up with Branwell at that point, and while Emily was the one who got along with him best, they had some pretty big fights because she was in no way a pushover (so the belief that Charlotte and Emily idolized Branwell while Anne was the only one who saw through his BS is also, incidentally, BS).

So, why did Charlotte stop Tenant from being re-printed after Anne's death? Simply put, the criticism against it was getting worse, and people were defaming Anne's character because of it. Charlotte had had her own share of troubles with Jane Eyre - she dedicated the second edition to William Makepeace Thackeray (of Vanity Fair and Barry Lyndon fame) because he was her favorite author, without knowing his wife was institutionalized after suffering from severe post-partum depression. And that led, of course, to people speculating that Jane Eyre was semi-autobiographical, and that Charlotte was Thackeray's mistress. (I mean, it *is* semi-autobiographical, but Thackeray had nothing to do with it.) So she was understandably a little on edge, and while she edited Agnes Grey for a reprinting after Anne's death (given there were a lot of spelling mistakes and the like in the first printing), she asked for Tenant to not be reprinted to protect her sister's memory.

So no, Charlotte did not block Tenant from being as well-known as Wuthering Heights or Jane Eyre because she was "jealous", or because she was mad that Anne was "throwing shade" at her and at Emily. She was protecting her sister's reputation, because she wasn't even alive anymore to speak for herself and mount any kind of defense, and that was while Charlotte's own reputation was under fire, after she had lost the two people who had supported her the most - Emily died in 1848, and Anne in 1849. To try to pit these sisters against each other, when two of them died far too young and the surviving one had to pick up the pieces and defend them against public opinion - it is simply distasteful, and it needs to stop.

#Anne Brontë #Charlotte Brontë #Emily Brontë #the tenant of wildfell hall #jane eyre #agnes grey #wuthering heights #literature #english literature #also: tenant is great and you should definitely read it

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storiesbyrhi · 7 months

Text

Witch!Reader x Bat/Vampire!Eddie Munson Series Masterlist The Grimoire The Timeline

Warnings: canon typical violence, horror genre typical violence/some infrequent gore, swearing, animal death, no beta, death in childbirth (mentioned, not described), abusive parents, suicide, warnings updated each chapter.

Synopsis: No witch has stepped foot in Hawkins since 1845, but when Vecna opens the ground and poisons the town, a voice begins to call to you. Have you been brought back to this cursed place to heal the townspeople’s wounds, to save a hexed bat that always finds its way to you, or to redefine your history with a reunion 150 years in the making?

Chapter Summary: Before death. 3170 words.

1986

Led Zeppelin.

Talking Heads.

Public Enemy.

The Grateful Dead.

Brian Eno.

The Clash.

Metallica.

New Order.

N.W.A.

The Cure.

Tori Amos.

Black Sabbath.

Cat Stevens.

Patti Smith.

Fleetwood Mac.

There were a lot of cassettes in your car. Eddie looked through them with interest. Some were store bought, their original sleeves intact, and some were mix tapes you’d made yourself.

“This is the more modern stuff. It’s easy to fall behind when you live so many lifetimes. So, I try to update what I’m listening to every decade. This is mostly 1970s and 80s,” you told him.

“Where shall we begin?”

“With hair like yours… Metallica?”

Key turned in the ignition, you ran the car and pushed the cassette into the player. Fight Fire with Fire began, the first few bars melodic and calm. Then, it kicked in. Eddie flinched at the noise, surprised but not alarmed.

He leaned forward, like he was trying to decode something hidden deep within the music. Slowly, a wide grin crept across his face. He snapped to face you. “What is this?” he demanded in pure delight.

“This is music,” you replied with a casual shrug. “Specifically, this type is called metal,”

“I like it.”

Eddie looked like he was going to cry when For Whom the Bells Tolls played. Like the guitar riff and gothic sound effects were going to heal the undead body he lived in. Fade to Black made the vampire melt into his seat. He laughed then held a hand out to you. You took it, letting him thread his fingers through yours.

“I do not know what happened to me. But if it was the only path I could have taken to being here in this… car… with you and this music, then I am glad I took it,” Eddie said, closing his eyes before you could respond with expression or word.

You watched him for a moment. Something about him like this – relaxed, weird, beautiful – made you want to squeeze him. Dig your nails in. Bite to test for firmness. It was muscle memory, you realised. Your mind didn’t know Eddie, didn’t remember him, but your body acted as though she’d been by his side forever. It was too easy.

��Since we’re already in the car, should we go get you some more appropriate clothes? Maybe some other supplies too?”

One of the large neighbouring towns had a Walmart that had just been built, and it boasted 24/7 opening hours.

Eddie opened his eyes and cocked his head. “Little witch, are you attempting to court me?”

You laughed. “Are you asking me if I’m asking you on a date?”

“A date,” Eddie repeated. He was a quick study. “Little witch, are you asking me on a date?”

He expected you to blush or groan with denial. The anticipation of your reaction was written all over his face. You’d not play into his trap so easily. Instead, you shrugged and casually replied, “What if I am?”

Eddie couldn’t control his face entirely; his eyebrows shot up and he smiled. “Then ask,”

“Eddie the unhexed, my mortal enemy, will you accompany me on a date to Walmart?”

…

1587

At the age of twenty, Edward felt old. Although he had only graduated from his teenage years days earlier, as he stood on The Lion’s deck face to face with the Atlantic Ocean, he was weary.

His mother had died in childbirth, which was not uncommon. The world hadn’t begun to record statistics on such occurrences, but all things averaged, eighteen of every hundred women would perish before the birth day of their baby was done. Likely, it was much more.

Edward’s father looked at him like he was the murder weapon of his wife, life-taking and constantly reflecting a bloody image back at him. He treated his son worse. Not as a loaded pistol or sharpened axe, but as a contagion. The plague or measles. Typhoid or smallpox. Something that elicited disgust, a disease to rid himself of at the very first chance.

Edward was sold to a farmer at age seven, destined to a life of hard labour and loneliness.

However, Edward was a fighter. He fought the conditions of his gory birth. The miserable childhood. And the farmer’s distrust of him around his daughter, Lizzy.

He didn’t have eyes for Lizzy. He kept his head down, tended to the animals, worked the land, and waited to be released from his workman’s contract. For eleven years, the farmer underfed Edward. He staved off malnutrition through the kindness of the farmer’s wife, the only person the farmer treated worse than Edward.

He was beaten and broken in, the subject of the farmer’s displaced rage at not fathering any sons of his own.

On the morning of his eighteenth birthday, Edward stood at his post expectedly. The contract was done. He had earned his freedom. Perhaps there would be an offer of legitimate farm work, which Edward would decline regardless. Perhaps a parting gift of a letter of recommendation. Perhaps simply a nod of acknowledgment. But nothing came.

He knew better than to go inside the family house, but by mid-morning, Edward couldn’t shake the feeling something was wrong. Slowly, quietly, he crept in. Lizzy had grown up and left the farm, but there still should have been the noise of the wife.

The quiet was worse in some rooms than others. Edward followed the silence to the study.

The farmer was sitting in the corner of the room, curled up as if he weren’t the God-fearing iron-fisted master of the house. His rifle was held under his chin, ready for suicide.

The wife was sprawled out on the floor, eyes open and fixed on the ceiling, bleeding from somewhere Edward could not immediately see.

“Is she dead?” the farmer asked.

Edward didn’t move.

“This is your fault, boy… Look what you made me do.”

It didn’t matter that it wasn’t Edward’s fault. A second dead mother would haunt him.

The gun went off, Edward flinched, half expecting to feel the bullet pierce through his body. His eyes were screwed shut and he was terrified to open them. He stood in the void of unknown for an entire minute. He counted the seconds in his head, one… two…, while he tried to imagine how he could have been the catalyst for the violence.

The sight of the farmer, face torn off and entirely limp, was seared onto the lens’ of Edward’s eyes forever.

On the desk was the contract signed when he was seven. His father’s signature had faded, the sign of cheap ink. Other documents were strewn around, including some that indicated to Edward that it was a possibility the farmer had no intention of honouring the contract’s end.

Among the papers, Edward found the key to the safe that was hidden beneath the staircase. Inside was what he considered to be a small fortune, but to the farmer it was pocket money. Edward took the cash, knowing he was incriminating himself, and returned to his post. He slung his one bag over his shoulder, took a horse, and never returned.

For days, weeks, and months after, Edward sat on the cusp of calm, always expecting to be hunted down and hung for a double murder. After a year, he slipped from the cusp and into a sense of normalcy.

Edward found work in Plymouth, the port city home to enough taverns and underground establishments that he could choose between the kitchens or the brawling rings. He could butcher a pig as easily as he could take a punch. Ultimately, he earned the most when he picked up the lute and made music.

Despite landing on his feet, Edward lived in solitude, afraid that any woman he loved would meet an early death, and any man he trusted would turn on him for no reason. He went by the name Wayne, simultaneously distancing himself from his past while tying himself to it. Edward had only met his Uncle Wayne once. He had come for him when he was four, claiming that he could care better for his sister’s son than Edward’s father ever could.

When Edward was free from the farm, he considered trying to find Uncle Wayne. His father has ensured he knew nothing of the man though. He wouldn’t have known where to begin. Taking his name was all he could do.

For two years, Edward eavesdropped on the comings and goings of sailors, pirates, and kingsmen. In June of 1586, he heard of the return of ships from somewhere over the sea. They had run out of provisions. The attempt to colonise had been a failure. Next year. That’s what he had heard. Next year, they’d try again.

Edward felt, for the first time in his entire life, that he knew where he should go. The Lion’s manifest read Wayne Munson, birth 1567, and set sale on May 8 1587 with Governor White at the helm.

Sea travel was horrific. Edward was violently ill with motion sickness, his skin itched as the salt water dried on him, and he spent more time picking splinters out from under his nails than doing almost anything else. When, after two and a half months at sea, The Lion dropped anchor on the east coast of what would be come to known as North America, Edward could have kissed the earth. However, he was trying to maintain a low profile.

That is exactly how he came to learn that the violence he had been running from was an unstoppable force. In all his hope, Edward had underestimated the British’s capacity for it. When weapons were thrust into his hands at the turning of a war against the Native people of the land, Edward swallowed the stomach bile that had burst its way up into his mouth.

His mother’s death weighed heavily on him. The farmer’s wife too. Edward wasn’t a passivist, he had earned coin by beating men bloody, but he was not a killer. Certainly, he would not unjustly kill.

He thought maybe he could lie to the kingsmen, weave a story of priesthood. Here, in this new place, he would bring the holy word of God. A task the Queen herself would find more than noble. A task that could not begin with red on his ledger.

Alas, a colony of only a hundred would rely on each other. He had not the economic or social currency to show weakness. So, he fought.

Edward volunteered for any role that would take him out of the offensive lines. He went on reconnaissance trips and kept watch as others slept. He learned how to offer the most basic of medical aid, and how to sneak away from action without being missed.

It was on one of these secret trips that Edward came across a Native American who looked equally as surprised to see him. Edward had wandered off into the woodland that surrounded the colony, his weapon slung lazily over his shoulder, and his attention on the strange mushrooms growing along the forest floor.

The two men saw each other at the same time and froze in almost mirror positions.

Edward watched the man’s eyes flick to the weapon, then back to his face. He could tell he was reading him. Assessing what kind of White man Edward was. Slowly, Edward opened his hands and held them up, palms showing in a sign of submission.

“Peace,” Edward said softly.

The man took a step forward, a steely expression held firm. Edward tried not to flinch, instead offering a nod. The man came closer and closer until he could really see him. Neither of them wanted to cause the other harm. Edward knew that his individual intentions were irrelevant. He was part of a brutal regime.

In the distance, a gunshot echoed, startling both men. They ran in opposite directions, like two same-sided magnets repelling apart.

Edward told nobody of the encounter.

Just over a month later, the colonists were in a tense sort of truce with the Native Americans, but their resources were diminishing faster than they could be regenerated. They moved up the coast while the British fleet prepared to leave for England.

“If this is to be a true settlement, not a failure like Lane’s, we need provisions,” Edward listened to one of the colonists beg Governor White. It was a town meeting of sorts. “Return home. Tell them it was a mistake to come without a proper show of force. We need help.”

The fleet disappeared over the horizon near the end of August.

Within days, the knocking began.

Knock, knock.

When the sun set, a low mist would bleed out from the woodland. It came over the ocean, crossing the beach to get to the colony. Somewhere deep within it, something knocked twice, as if at a door asking for entry. They knocked on the hour, every hour until sunrise.

Knock, knock.

At first, the colony responded with a British stiff upper lip. They ignored it. They swallowed their fear. Then, when the cause for concern couldn’t be contained, they blamed the Native Americans. Except, it wasn’t how the Native Americans operated, and they hadn’t seen anyone but their own since the ships left.

Paranoia and dread set in. Superstition followed.

“What ungodly force has come for us?”

“Could it be the witches? They’re all over this land, you know!”

Edward listened to the unraveling of the people around him, but never offered his own theories or fears. Instead, one night, when the mist came in and the colony locked itself away, Edward found higher ground and watched. The mist was alive. There was simply no other conclusion to draw. It moved too quickly and appeared to have no relationship with the weather. It had a purpose. It licked around the settlement like it was hunting for something. Someone. Anyone.

Knock, knock.

Come morning, the colony’s livestock were slaughtered. Edward had stayed up all night, but he hadn’t seen it happen. There had been no devils in the mist.

Knock, knock.

The children cried and the women kept themselves busy with work. The men burned the animals’ bodies, too afraid to eat any of the meat.

Knock, knock.

The next night, Edward took his perch again. And the next. And the next. Until, a week later, they came from the darkness.

He knew that they wanted to be seen. They knocked on doors, rapped knuckles on axes left in stumps. They knocked on trees and rocks, riding the fog in.

Edward saw them and there was nothing to be done about that. He saw their human forms wear human clothes but make inhuman movements. He saw them dancing, dragging animal carcasses behind them like royal capes. He saw them, and they saw him.

The colony was ripped apart. Men, women, and children all treated with equal brutality. Edward stayed positioned in his higher ground perch, witnessing evil while he held his breath and tried not to scream. Bodies limp like rag dolls. Blood drip drip dripping into buckets when neighbours were hung from trees. Horror. Carnage. Damnation.

It almost felt like mercy, Edward thought, the moment the warmth bloomed across his neck and down his chest. He stumbled as he stood from his hiding spot. The vampire was watching him curiously. Edward held a useless hand over the bite. It was mercy that he hadn’t seen the monster coming. He hadn’t felt the pain of the injury. He could just die, easily, simply, finally.

The vampire’s face broke out into a gleeful smile, its teeth off-white and sharp.

“Filius,” it hissed. Son.

The vampires had come for misery, mostly, but they had been watching the colony. They had watched the violence leveled at the Native Americans. They picked out their favourites, like children at a petting zoo. Favourites would be turned.

Edward had never been anyone’s favourite anything, until then.

When he dropped to his knees, the vampire was crouching before him. It reached out and patted Edward, watching his skin’s colour fade. Then, it pushed him onto the ground, leering over him.

Edward could feel himself dying. It was a strange sort of fading, unlike falling asleep, and nothing like he’d have expected. His senses were somehow still sharp. The sounds of the colony being bled and burnt. The smell of death and fire. He could see it all then, when the vampire bit down hard on its own wrist, tearing a gaping wound.

“Pótó,” it said to him.

Edward didn’t understand Latin, but he knew what it was saying. Drink. He held his lips together tightly. He would not follow at the heels of a monster. Whatever it wanted with him, he would not abide.

At first, Edward’s resistance amused the vampire. It let its blood drip and dribble onto his face. It grew bored quickly, clutching Edward’s head in its hands, its nails digging in, ready to pry his jaw open.

It was a blur. A weapon. Not enough to kill a vampire, but enough to send it tumbling away from Edward’s body. He felt strong arms wrap under him, pulling him up. Someone was dragging him away, yelling in a language he didn’t understand. There was fire, arrows dipped in it. Then, there was blackness.

Edward dreamed one last time.

The mist, it had still set itself upon the colony, but it wasn’t vampires. It was the witches. They looked like his mother and the farmer’s wife. Like the girl who could carry more pints at once than anyone else in the bar. Like the kid who lived on the streets that Edward would spare more money for than he could really afford.

The witches came with spells to heal and potions that tasted like warm honey, and reminded him of something he couldn’t place. They told stories to the children and baked enchanted bread with the women. For the men, there was nothing, but they watched from the sidelines with humility.

When Edward woke, the magic was gone.

He roared in pain, shooting up and panicking when his body was entirely out of his control, raging in agony, thrashing. Hands held him down, a voice doing its best to soothe him. It wasn’t enough.

Edward’s body felt hollow, like all his organs had shrivelled up, the blood lost through the septic wound in his neck. And, like any bones left inside him had shrunk too, turned brittle and too small to let him move as he wished. His flesh burned as if he’d been roasted on a spit. Everything was pain. There was nothing else.

It took only minutes for Edward to collapse again. He was vaguely aware of his own consciousness. Vaguely able to tell he was in some sort of cave or tree hollow. Something naturally formed and sheltered. Vaguely aware of a face he recognised hovering above him. As hands tried to stop the bleeding, Edward’s eyes closed.

End Note: For the anon that suggested it - 1986 Eddie listening to metal for the first time.

A huge thank you to @jo-harrington, who models exactly what it means to be a thoughtful writer. You help me navigate the writing world.

So... Did you ever think you'd get an Eddie origin story?

Fic Taglist: @paranoidmunson @idkidknemore @paprikaquinn @stardustworlds @loz-brooke @wyverntatty @vintagehellfire @dark-academia-slut @scarletwitchwhore @becks1002 @mrsdollardog @heyndrix @luceneraium @rosaline-black @devilinthepalemoonlite @goldencherriess @iamwhisperingstars @wiltedwonderland @blueywrites @breezybeesposts @jadehowlettthewolf @spikesvamp79 @foreveranexpatsposts @tortoiseshellspells @wingedpeachjudgegiant @stardustmunson @live-love-be-unique @fangirling-4-ever @reanimated-alice @b-irock @gh0stlybunnie @myown-worstenemy-2003 @woozzz @cyberxlust @hiscrimsonangel @buckysbarne @m00nlight101 @word-wytch @spicysix @briasnow-blog @goth-cowgirl-03

All Eddie Taglist: @solomons-finest-rum @ruinedbythehobbit @sweetpeapod @thorfemmes @corrodedhawkins @grungegrrrl @lilzabob @averagemisfit03 @ches-86 @ilovecupcakesandtea @onehotgreasymechanic @hazydespair @mel-the-fangirl @eddies-hid3out @siren-lungs @aheadfullofsteverogers @hiscrimsonangel

#Mine #Burning Yarrow #Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson x You #Eddie Munson x Reader #Eddie Munson/You #Eddie Munson/Reader #Vampire!Eddie Munson #Witch!Reader

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dearharriet · 1 month

Note

could I request the tangled prompt for george, please? 😚

and congratulations on 150!!! 🎉

here u are lovely, thank you sm!! (wc: 870)

George is not used to this whole heart in his chest thing, and it’s really dragging down his name as an enemy of the crown.

I mean, sure, that’s not something he can just put away—and the palace guards certainly won’t—but he almost wishes he could. Which is stupid, obviously George loves being a criminal—who doesn’t?

But the thing is, you’re kind of more than he’d been expecting. George thought you were naive, and jumpier than a field mouse, and you are, but you’re also kind when you want to be, and similarly cutthroat when necessary. You’re not half bad.

Like now, in the square, you’re helping an older group of women with their knitting patterns. George had ordered you to lay low, but he realizes now how foolish that is. It doesn’t matter how low you lay, everyone would be looking at you anyways. You’re just magnetic that way.

Leaving the chittering group, you pass over the wide open square, eyes on a shady alcove at the other end. George ducks further into the overhang, skirting around columns to meet you there.

Even if you’re not seeking him out, he’s glad you’re getting some shade. The mid-year sun is penetrating every thick stone building in the kingdom, and turning the ground into a coal walk for your bare feet.

And anyways, when the sun and you meet head-on, it’s a spectacle that’s hard to look at.

Rounding the corner, George stops short, realizing you’re not as alone as he thought.

You’re crouched, hair fanning over your shoulders, speaking with a small boy who looks very unfortunate. There’s dirt covering his face, and his feet are similar to yours in that they’re unprotected. He can’t be more than ten, but instead of playing in the sun like most children, he’s slumped against the wall, looking tired.

George’s newfound heart thumps a little, shocking his system. He steps forward, but then you’re standing, pulling the boy up with you.

Weaving through carts and wagons, you lead the boy into the center of the square, and then skitter away to a quartet of musicians.

The little boy looks like he’s treading open water, spinning in the wake of your attention. When you come back, you take his shaking hands into yours as a song begins to play.

Then you’re dancing.

With the height difference it’s nothing more than a flailing spin, but with every rotation both your face and the boy’s light with joy.

Two couples join in, and George ventures out of his hiding spot to get a better view. As he passes vendors and shoppers, he notices them uprooting themselves, pushing toward you the way he is.

Many of them join, and when George is on the bank of the whirling circle of townspeople he can’t see you anymore. The dance has quickly evolved into a more complex braid of partners, one that everyone but him seems to understand.

A part of him worries that you were taken, but a flash of gold cuts through the mesh of feet, and his shoulders settle.

The partners change fast, so one second your elbows are linked with an older man, and the next you’re swinging into a young girl. It goes this way down the chain, changing all at once like a flower that blooms new every minute, and you keep your eyes on George the whole time.

When you reach him, you stick one hand out and yank him into the fray.

George stumbles and then catches himself on a stranger who kindly guides him into the proper spin. Luckily, he’d been watching long enough to know when to switch, pinging from one partner to the next as bystanders clap to the beat.

When he’s rounded the full circle, the music changes, and everyone finds a new direction.

Though he probably wouldn’t admit it out loud, George understands why you and the boy had looked so happy. As he swings through smithys and students and artists, touching each hand briefly in this hurdling dance, he’s undeniably alive.

He thought that stealing the crown was the fastest his heart would ever beat, but he might have been wrong. Running away was easy, but coming back? Near impossible.

Without him even realizing, George is finally dancing with you. It felt like every time he’d completed the circle and come to you, the music had changed and you’d miss each other.

But now, you’re under his hands, and when the music changes, you tighten yours around his. The chain breaks, and no one seems to mind. George suspects it was all your making anyways, so this time is no different.

Around and around you spin under the summer sun, and George tugs you closer, his feet doing the work for both of you. He doesn’t have to think, he just turns and turns and lifts you, revels in your delighted laugh. He shocks himself with his returning laugh—not snide nor attractive, but truly overjoyed.

When you land on your feet, the music comes to an end, and George and you are still laughing. Both of your chests meet with each huff, swelling with air and pride.

George knows it’s not about the crown anymore.

thank you for reading xx

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