#-- her size and made them disappear :D | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hungryistrying · 2 months ago

Text

something here (i'm biding time 'til it disappears)

summary:

What is Jinx scared of, you might ask? The chewed holes which are obvious signs of a rat infestation? The warnings from their new landlord that they should keep the toilet lid shut in case of cockroaches? Or maybe the array of loud and extremely suspicious sounds at night? Nope. Not even close. Jinx was born and raised in Zaun, then spent the last four years of her life in a college dormitory the size of a peanut. She could deal with a shabby, cheap first apartment. Especially when she’s still trying to find a job that she actually studied for. But moving in with Ekko fucking terrifies her.

In which Jinx and Ekko move in together and she feels very calm and normal about the ordeal.

rating: teen

word count: 9706

status: completed

crossposted to ao3

“Do you wanna move in together?”

That was the fateful question that might potentially ruin Jinx’s life.

Because when Ekko casually asked her that very question– after lamenting that his lease was ending and his roommate planned to move away– Jinx just as casually agreed, too preoccupied to properly consider what living with Ekko could mean for their relationship.

In her defense, they were in the middle of binging the latest telenovela she picked up, so her priorities had lied elsewhere at that moment… Specifically with whether or not Bianca's evil mother-in-law would successfully ruin her marriage (well, that's probably what she was trying to do).

That aside, her graduation was right around the corner, she'd already cleared out her dorm room, and her only plan was to move in with Vi to leech off her and her wife until she could afford her own place (it's a younger sibling privilege, alright).

However, given that Jinx honestly couldn't stand her sister-in-law– despite Vi's impassioned attempts to remedy that fact– moving in with her boyfriend seemed way more appealing than essentially becoming Vi and Caitlyn's permanent third wheel.

Especially when he beamed at her when she said yes, showing her that smile that spread so wide it made his dimples show. Jinx would've joked that she needed a pair of sunglasses because of him, had her stomach not been preoccupied with doing backflips at the sight.

That, combined with his excitement as he showed her different apartment listings they could apply for, made it hard for her to consider how this could be a bad idea. Now that they’re actually here, however, Jinx's mind is racing, her heart is pounding, and she comes to a singular, damning realization.

She's scared.

The feeling hits her belatedly. Akin to the sensation of getting stabbed and the pain only hitting hours later when the rush of adrenaline has worn off (...which is totally not something that actually happened to her). It only occurs to her when she and Ekko are already in their new apartment, moving in dozens of boxes with their belongings.

And what is she scared of, you might ask? The chewed holes which are obvious signs of a rat infestation? The warnings from their new landlord that they should keep the toilet lid shut in case of cockroaches? Or maybe the array of loud and extremely suspicious sounds at night?

Nope. Not even close. Jinx was born and raised in Zaun, then spent the last four years of her life in a college dormitory the size of a peanut. She could deal with a shabby, cheap first apartment. Especially when she’s still trying to find a job that she actually studied for.

But moving in with Ekko fucking terrifies her.

“Fuck, I'm tired,” Ekko groans, setting down the last box of their haul. They've had to move everything by themselves since none of their friends had time to help them– the downside of moving on a Tuesday afternoon.

Jinx doesn’t spare him a glance while putting down a box herself, reaching for a pair of scissors on the kitchen counter so she can cut it open. Her body moves on autopilot, mind still racing with concerns.

Why the fuck is moving in with Ekko so nerve-wracking all of a sudden? Jinx didn't feel a sliver of doubt before. Not while they were apartment hunting; Nor when they had to collect a headache-inducing amount of documents to apply for this place; Not even when they were actually signing the lease. But now she's standing in their new apartment and can only think of all the ways this could go wrong.

“...inx? Jinx!” She startles at the sound of her name, a resounding clatter echoing across the still-bare apartment as the scissors fall out of her hand and onto the tiled floor.

Cursing under her breath, she bends down to pick them up, her hand brushing against Ekko's – since when was he standing beside her? – who bent down to do the same.

“Careful.” His tone is gentle, but it only sets her nerves further alight. “Are you alright?”

She looks up to find his gaze already trained on her, a furrow forming between his brow at her lack of response. Fucking fantastic, they just moved in and she's already stressing him out.

Jinx snorts as nonchalantly as she can. “What? You think a pair of kitchen scissors is gonna take me out?”

Ekko gives her his signature unimpressed look, the one he only gives her when they're bantering, and Jinx feels something in her chest ease at the potential landmine she just averted. But then, because he's Ekko and can never let things go without looking for a problem to solve, he continues, “You know that's not what I meant.”

“Of course I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?” Jinx lies because she's a fucking liar, even adding an exaggerated eye roll to sell the bit. Honestly, she should get an Oscar.

Ekko doesn't look convinced, however, so maybe she should kiss that make-believe Oscar goodbye. Before he can open his mouth and keep pushing, Jinx says, “What did you call me for anyway?”

At her not-so-subtle diversion, he gives her That Look. The one that, over the last two years, Jinx has learned to read as “We're not done talking about this.” And that's perfectly fine with her, because unbeknownst to Ekko, they are done talking about it. In fact, there's nothing to talk about. It's just her having first apartment jitters. Or something.

After all, Jinx has never lived by herself, and that in and of itself is already nerve-wracking. She's fresh out of college, still job hunting, and her cooking expertise is limited to grilled cheese sandwiches and instant ramen. So surely it's perfectly normal to feel this way. She'll get over it and they'll go back to the way they were.

Jinx innocently looks at him as if there's nothing wrong (because there isn't!). Eventually, Ekko just sighs and answers, “I asked you what we should get for dinner. Ionian? Pizza?”

“What? You're not cooking a three-star Michelin meal for our first day together?” she jokes.

Leveling her with an unimpressed stare, Ekko walks further into their desolate kitchen, still looking at her over his shoulder. “Right, how could I forget?” He blindly reaches forward, grabbing at air. “Let me just grab some ingredients from the– Oh.” His head swivels to look at the space in front of him, before he turns back to her with feigned surprise, and says, “Oh, that's right. We don't have a fridge!”

She snorts at his dramatics before she frowns and thinks. “Didn't you already have a fridge, though?”

“I did.” He walks back to her, leaning back against one of the counters. “I let Scar take most our furniture. He has a baby on the way, so he's losing enough money as it is.”

Jinx blinks, surprised at the revelation. She's not sure why. Of course Ekko of all people would do something so stupidly selfless.

Despite the warm flutter in her chest, she groans and says, “You know you're disgustingly nice, right?” He rolls his eyes, but doesn't deny it, so she pulls herself up to sit on the counter beside him and asks, “So now what? We go fridge-shopping tomorrow?”

“We could.” Ekko shrugs. “Or we borrow my dad's minivan and drive to the dump to see if some sucker from Piltover threw out a perfectly good fridge.”

“Now there's a good idea!”

“Know what else is a good idea?” He moves to stand in front of her, resting his hands on her knees and gently pushing them apart so he can stand between them. Without thinking about it, Jinx rests her arms on his shoulders as she inquisitively hums so he'll continue.

“Dinner,” he concludes. “Now tell me what you want so I can pick something up.”

With a sigh, she looks up at the ceiling while considering his question. It’s covered in yellow stains. Gross. They should repaint the walls. Maybe she could even add some fun designs…She’s pretty sure Vi has spare paint cans lying around somewhere.

The hands on her thighs briefly tighten, drawing her attention back to him. Still undecided, she shrugs. “Just get whatever, it’s fine.”

Ekko stares at her entirely unconvinced, but doesn't say anything. Eventually, she cracks and asks, “What?”

“So you'll eat whatever I get for dinner. Am I hearing that right?”

“Yes! It’s fine, I'm not that picky.”

“I swear,” he sighs, “if I come back with takeout and you say you don't feel like eating it again–”

“What?!” Jinx interrupts, indignation flaring. “I never do that!”

“You do this every single time!” Ekko argues, pulling away from her. Jinx reluctantly lets him, despite the coldness seeping into the growing space between their bodies. “I’m not buying shit until you pick something.”

Jinx groans, but knows better than to doubt Ekko's stubbornness at this point, so she concedes, “Okay, fine! Get the fish stew from Jericho then.”

Ekko's already reaching for his jacket by the entryway when Jinx yells “Wait!” and jumps off the counter, running to him. Grabbing both his cheeks, she squishes their mouths together in a chaste kiss before pulling back and adding, “And get your own fries this time, you glutton.”

“Man, whatever,” he grumbles, shrugging on his jacket while Jinx just laughs. “I'm leaving, be back soon, alright?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Jinx shoos him away. “Go get dinner already! I'll start on the bed so we can sleep tonight.”

The door closes with a thud that feels much louder than she realistically knows it is. She turns back to look at the apartment. Their apartment. Despite its modest size, without Ekko here, it feels much too large for her liking.

With a sigh, she tries to exhale the last of her doubts, reaching for the abandoned kitchen scissors so she can cut the bubble wrap off their disassembled bed.

She can shake these feelings off. They're just first apartment jitters, right?

Sadly – by the time they managed to procure a fridge from the city dump, haul it up the stairs and into their apartment – the nerves have not faded. The aggravating argument they had in the downstairs hallway did not help matters: Ekko bemoaning they should've gotten a trolley while she insisted the two of them would be able to drag it up the stairs just fine without one.

Luckily, their landlady overheard them and did in fact have a trolley, sparing them the trouble of finding out (but Jinx knows for a fact they could've made it work anyway). She would've argued as much, but one look at Ekko's face had her swallowing any more arguments, along with the bile suddenly rising in her throat. Because Ekko looked annoyed with her. And sure, that wasn't an uncommon occurrence, but it felt different now that they were living together.

What if he regrets it now? Regrets her. They've barely started living together, but what if he's already tired of her being in his space all the time? Of her always messing things up; of her chaos; of her stubbornness; of her impulsiveness; of her always ruining things– What if it’s too much now that he has to be around her constantly?

Jinx glances at Ekko and considers asking. Maybe it’ll be better just to rip off the bandage.

“Let’s never do that shit again,” he says, standing up from where he sat slumped against the wall after they nearly got taken out carrying a fridge up two flights of stairs. He catches her eye before she can look away and raises a curious eyebrow. “What’s up?”

Do you hate me now? Am I annoying? Do you want to break up? The questions try to rise to the tip of her tongue but get stuck in her throat, suffocating her.

“Nothing,” she ends up saying. Because what if she rips off the bandage and finds a gunshot wound? Or what if her brain is just setting her up for failure again and she creates a problem where there never was one?

Ekko nods as if there’s nothing wrong; As if he didn’t just look at her like he hates her and regrets this–

Alright, she might be spiraling and has to calm down.

“I’m gonna return my dad's van and give this to Babette while I'm at it. Be right back, alright?” He grabs Babette's trolley and heads out before she can respond.

Jinx does not flinch at the resounding thud after he closes the door.

She’s not spiraling. Definitely not spiraling. He said he’ll be back and she believes him and everything will be okay.

Sitting here trapped with only her thoughts, which predictably, fucking suck, is making her jittery. She has to do something to turn off her brain and redirect her focus. Something useful so Ekko won’t hate her.

She looks at their newly acquired fridge and feels a light bulb turn on over her head, nearly tripping over her own feet in her excitement to race to the fridge.

Before he headed out, the two of them had managed to put it in the right spot and plug the power cord in. By now it should've been running for long enough that Jinx can start figuring out what's wrong with the damn thing.

Opening the fridge (and nearly gagging at the smell), she looks around and tries to figure out what’s wrong with it. She’ll fix the fridge and they’ll have one less thing to worry about.

By the time the front door opens, Jinx has four boxes hauled into the kitchen, electronics and mechanical parts spilling out (because she's a hoarder and keeps everything just in case it's useful one day), her phone blasting Pentakill on the counter, and is sitting hunched inside of the fridge.

At the creak of the door, she peaks her head out of the fridge and grins at the sight of Ekko…Well, as close as she can get to a grin with four nails precariously trapped between her teeth.

“Hey.” He closes the door with one hand, balancing a tub of tupperware in the other. “You been busy?”

Jinx spits out the nails so she can respond, “Yup! Fridge is almost done. I fixed up the compressor, the seals, replaced the vents, and now I’m just changing some broken lights.”

She carefully places the nails down on the counter, right next to the tupperware Ekko had just set down, prompting her to ask, “What about you, huh? Whatcha got there?”

Before he can even answer, Jinx is already ripping off the lid, revealing pasta covered in chicken and a creamy sauce, steam still wafting off the food. A satisfied hum escapes her mouth at the fragrant smell.

Ekko laughs at her palpable excitement. “My mom made us pasta. I'll let her know it was a hit.”

“Absolutely. Her cooking is the best part about dating you.” Jinx grins, popping the lid back on.

He scoffs, mock-offended. “That’s the best part? Not the fact that I'm smart, super funny, handsome, and always buy you those disgusting drinks?”

Jinx scrunches her nose as she pretends to consider his question for a moment, before she concludes, "Nope. Definitely none of those things."

“I see how it is…” Ekko clicks his tongue. “Know what? Let me just take this and go.” He moves to pick up the pasta, but Jinx practically launches herself at the container before he can get very far.

“Wait, wait, wait! I take it back. I'll even tolerate your Mountain Dew hatred.” Seeing his unimpressed look and steadfast grip on the tupperware, Jinx grumbles and adds, “And the best part of dating you is that you're smart and funny and hot and a great kisser– Now stop making me say embarrassing shit!”

Ekko hums in consideration, before nodding and finally releasing the pasta from his clutches. “Alright, the delivery wasn't that great but you get bonus points for the great kisser thing.”

Jinx scoffs, grabbing the forgotten screws off the counter. “You suck.”

“Thanks, love you too,” he answers with a saccharine smile.

In a tragic turn of events, her heart flutters at his words, despite their obvious sarcasm. But she refuses to give him any more leverage over her, so just grumbles, “Whatever, I’m gonna finish up these lights so we can eat.”

“Alright, I’ll go ahead and plate this up then,” he answers, rummaging through their several unpacked bags, presumably in search of plates and cutlery.

For a moment, quiet settles over them as they get to work on their respective tasks. The apartment is filled with sounds of rustling bags and metal touching as Jinx drives the screws back in, carefully maneuvering her head so her shadow doesn’t block the dying light of the sun spilling through the windows.

She hears Ekko begin humming to the next song on her playlist– the music scarcely loud enough to block out the rush of traffic and passing trains just outside their apartment– and her heart swells at the sound. Or maybe it’s from the realization of how…normal this is.

Because Jinx has never really had anything normal or stable in her life. She fucks things up and people leave her and end up hating her. But maybe, just maybe, if it’s with Ekko, she doesn’t have to feel that way.

Of course, just as she has this epiphany, Ekko innocently asks, “Why’d you get started on the fridge anyway? I figured we’d do it together some other time,” and the feeling crumbles and disperses with the wind, like it was never there in the first place.

Dread fills its place instead, and Jinx has to force herself to swallow it down before she responds, her voice carefully neutral, “Oh, you know, I just figured it’d be better to get the damn thing over with.”

She can’t glean much from his responding hum, the sound too dispassionate for her to analyze how he feels. And how she should respond in turn. So, cautiously, she asks, “Why? Are you mad I did it without you?”

“No?” The genuine confusion in his voice fills Jinx with a contradictory sense of relief and shame. “I just thought it would be easier if we did it together, but if you already got it that's great.”

So it's nothing. Great. He's not mad at her. See? Everything's fine and she did a super helpful thing and he's taking it well and so is she and–

“Fuck,” Ekko curses, breaking her train of thought.

…Shit, maybe he is lying.

“Jinx.” This is it, she thinks, holding her breath as she waits for the other shoe to drop. “I…may have forgotten to bring any plates.”

…

Well.

That was anticlimactic.

Jinx blinks and turns to look at him across the room, a sheepish smile on his face, as he sits on the floor surrounded by a dozen ravished bags and unpacked boxes. A beat of silence. Jinx blankly stares at him. Then laughter spills from her, bursting uncontrollably from her under all the pressure.

Ekko looks at her nonplussed. “Jinx?”

“No, no,” she wipes a stray tear from her eye, “it’s nothing.”

Jinx just shakes her head, her brain doing its best not to lag behind this ridiculous turn of events. She begins setting her tools aside and shutting the fridge. It’s as good as done anyway, might as well take a rain check on that and leave cleaning it for tomorrow.

"Well, do we have forks?" she asks, pausing the music before walking over to Ekko. He remains seated on the floor, his back turned to her as he stubbornly continues to check all the bags despite what he just told her.

“Uh, yeah,” he raises a hand to vaguely gesture in the direction of three other bags, while the bag in front of him has his undivided attention, “somewhere in there, I think. I just can’t believe I forgot to get plates of all things.”

“Well, no point crying over spilled milk, right?” Jinx shrugs, leaning forward and resting her hands on his shoulders. He looks up at her with a frown; his face looks funny upside down like this. “How about you grab your laptop, I get those forks, and we can watch a show while we eat?”

He sighs and gently removes her hands so he can stand up, giving her a knowing look as he asks, “You mean that telenovela we should just find subtitles for?”

“It’s more fun when you don’t know what’s going on!” Jinx argues, shoving him in the direction of their bedroom. “Now get your laptop already so we can enjoy our three-star Michelin meal.”

He ends up laughing at her words, the sound breaking his facade of exasperation. Jinx just rolls her eyes as she turns to rummage through the other bags until she finally manages to spot the forks.

With a hum, she washes the forks clean before popping the lid off the tupperware and artfully sticking the now-clean forks in. Jinx steps into their living room – if it can even be called that in its sorry state – with the tupperware in one hand, briefly bending down so she can pick up a leftover six-pack of cola with the other.

She takes a look around the bare room, trepidation filling her at how empty it is. Will this last long enough for her to see it filled with their belongings? Or will this relationship reach its inevitable end before they've even painted the walls and hung the curtains?

Two years. That’s how long she’s been dating Ekko now. Ekko, who has been in her life since that one fateful summer when she was eleven. Back when she was still filled with childish naivety and had hopes that one day somebody would love her just as she is.

Of course, then life happened and she got a rude reality check.

Because Jinx didn't have healthy and committed relationships; Jinx texted hot guys on Tinder and flirted with pretty girls on campus she didn’t give a shit about; Jinx had toxic situationships that were bound to crash and burn, to remind her that no one could ever really love her.

How Ekko's managed to put up with her for so long – enough so that he'd ask her to live with him – she has no idea. But she's never done this before with anyone, never been in a relationship with anyone as long as she has been with Ekko. And a treacherous part of her mind always insists that this can’t last.

Yet Jinx can’t bring herself to leave before she gets burned either. So she lives in dread, awaiting the day he finally realizes what he's gotten himself into. She's always waiting for the other shoe to drop, for him to decide he's tired of her.

“Alright, ready?” Ekko’s voice startles her out of her thoughts. She whips her head in his direction, his smile shining through the clouded parts of her mind like a ray of sunlight.

“Yeah.” She nods, plopping down on her bean bag and taking a deep, calming breath through her nose. “So, uh, what episode were we on?”

Ekko sets the laptop on the floor between them, frowning at her while Jinx innocently plays with one of her braids and pretends she doesn’t notice.

Unfortunately, she must not be very successful, since he insistently meets her eyes anyway and asks, “What's up with you?”

“Hm?” She raises a curious eyebrow, feigning ignorance. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know.” He sighs. “You’ve just been acting weird these last couple of days. Are you–

“No.” She doesn’t know what he was trying to ask her, but she has a feeling she doesn’t want to know either.

Ekko looks unconvinced. In fact, he looks like he wants to argue more; like he wants to fix whatever’s wrong. Typical Ekko, always ready to solve everyone else’s problems even when he already has too much on his plate. And he really has his work cut out for him when it comes to her.

With a sigh, she stands in front of him and rests her hands on his shoulders, using the leverage to guide him to sit on the other bean bag. “Look, I’m fine, okay? Just a little tired after today. Can we relax and worry about the rest tomorrow, please?”

For a moment he simply frowns at her, then his expression softens. He raises her hand off his shoulder, drawing circles on her inner wrist with his thumb, before he raises it to his mouth and places a gentle kiss there. Jinx feels her stomach flip at the soft press of his lips on her skin.

“Alright.” He nods at her abandoned bean bag beside him. “Now sit down, I'm starving.”

Any witty quip she might've come up with dies at the tip of her tongue as she's filled with warmth all over, mutely nodding as she sits back down beside him.

“Hold on,” Ekko says, scrolling down his phone, “I gotta turn on my hotspot. I called the internet provider but they can't hook us up ‘til next week.”

Jinx hums in response, popping open a can of cola for herself and setting another one aside for Ekko. Something nudges at the back of her mind at his words, but she can't quite put her finger on it.

“Okay, got it.” Ekko presses play on the telenovela, the opening song playing while he grabs one of the forks to scarf down a generous bite of the pasta.

Jinx snorts. “Sheesh, didn't know you were starving.” Suddenly a light bulb turns on over her head. “Oh, we should do groceries tomorrow! You know, now that we actually have a fridge.” She makes a face. “After we clean the damn thing, that is.”

Ekko swallows down his food, before responding, “Didn't you say you wanted to relax and forget about all this?”

“Ugh, whatever.” Jinx weakly smacks his arm. “I'm just thinking ahead and all that. Really, you should be proud of me.”

“Oh, definitely.” Ekko sagely nods, before reaching out to flick her nose, eliciting an indignant yelp from Jinx. “Now if you really wanna make me proud, eat some dinner already. I know for a fact you only ate a pop-tart today.”

She scoffs. “Like you’re one to talk, spaceboy. You ate froot loops straight out of the box this morning and you’re gonna school me on healthy eating?”

“...Let’s just watch the damn show and eat.”

It takes Jinx two whole minutes to stop laughing so hard that she can in fact watch the damn show and eat.

They’ve been standing in front of the herbs and spices aisle for ten minutes now.

“Your mom text back yet?” Jinx asks, turning to Ekko.

He puts his phone away with a sigh. “Nope.”

“I don’t get it. I thought you knew how to cook.”

“I do!” he insists. “But Scar usually did the groceries so I didn’t have to think about what I should buy. I just grabbed what I needed from the cupboards.”

“Hm.” Jinx squints at him. “So you’re a conman.”

He rolls his eyes. “I don’t wanna hear that from you, you can’t even cook.”

“But I can bake!”

“Doesn’t count, baking is just chemistry.”

Jinx glares at him for a moment, before giving up and redirecting her attention back to the spice aisle. “Whatever! Let’s just grab some shit and go. We can just come back if we need more spices.” She grabs for salt, pepper, cinnamon, cajun, smoked paprika, garlic powder– whatever she can get her hands on– carelessly tossing a myriad of spice jars into their shopping cart.

“Assuming we can come back,” Ekko says, holding the cart steady so Jinx can climb back inside.

“Oh, not this again.” Jinx groans, rearranging the groceries so she can comfortably sit around them. “You get banned from a grocery store one time–

“Most people don’t get banned from grocery stores at all,” he interrupts, rolling the cart towards the checkout queue.

“Okay, but it was a Piltie store, so that doesn't even count.”

“True,” Ekko concedes, “but I got banned too even though I didn't do shit! I was just collateral damage.”

“That's cause you're my baby,” Jinx sing-songs in the most annoying voice she can muster, leaning forward to grab Ekko's face and planting a wet kiss on his cheek. The motion nearly causes him to steer them into a wall. “If I can't go, you can't either. Ride or die, right?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ekko grumbles, rolling his eyes, but Jinx can see the way he presses his lips together, suppressing a smile.

They join the check-in queue, Jinx remaining seated in the shopping cart as she and Ekko work in tandem to place all their groceries on the rolling band. A lady in front of them sneaks curious glances at her. They come to an abrupt end when Jinx pointedly turns her head around to stare the woman down.

Ekko doesn't comment on the exchange, but she can hear him laughing under his breath. In response, she sticks her tongue out at him, before continuing to place their groceries on the rolling band.

By the time they finish, their things have taken up all the space on the band, and Jinx has a mini heart attack when she's in the middle of packing their fourth grocery bag and she sees the total come in over five hundred dollars. She eyes Ekko incredulously, who just shrugs and takes out his card to pay for their groceries.

“...I didn’t think it’d cost that much,” she mutters when they’re outside, raising her arms so Ekko will lift her out of the shopping cart.

“Well, inflation is a bitch,” he grunts as he picks her up, carefully setting her down on the ground, “and we had to buy pretty much everything under the sun since our place is empty.”

Jinx knows it's irrational, but she still can't help but worry that she's a burden. That this is yet another reason why he'll inevitably tire of her. Her arms remain wrapped around his neck and Jinx uses the physical contact to steady her nerves as she asserts, “I’ll pay next time, okay?”

She nervously bites the inside of her cheek as she waits for Ekko’s response, but he just stares at her nonplussed. Then he chuckles, squeezing her cheek between his fingers and pulling the flesh free from her teeth. The action startles an indignant whine from her.

“I'm your boyfriend, Jinx, I'll take care of you,” he assures. “Don't worry so much about shit like that, okay?”

Her heart feels so warm and full at his declaration that it threatens to burst out of her chest. So Jinx channels the feeling by grabbing his face and peppering it with kisses. When she finally reaches his mouth, she lingers and feels him smiling against her lips in response.

She breaks the kiss, stepping out of his space and assenting, “Okay.”

“Good.” He smiles and ruffles her hair. “Now let’s go,” he says, grabbing half of their bags from the shopping cart, “next train leaves in fifteen.”

Jinx grabs the other two bags and falls into step beside him. Despite what she just said, she can’t help but still feel a deep-seated doubt that compels her to say, “...What if we return some of the spices? It should save us at least some cash.”

Ekko looks at her, affronted. “Hell no, we are not eating unseasoned food like Vi’s Piltie wife.”

The laugh that startles out of Jinx melts away the remainder of her nerves.

When they finally make it back to their apartment (which still feels weird but Jinx is warming up to the concept more and more) night has fallen. Neon lights from the street signs outside cast a faint glow over the otherwise dark room. Yeah, they should invest in some good curtains.

Jinx struggles to drag the bags into the kitchen, ungracefully dropping them on the floor. “Oh thank god,” she groans, rubbing at her sore arms. “I’m gonna go…” she trails off, shuffling her way into the living area and collapsing face-first onto one of the bean bags.

She hears Ekko laugh at her dramatics, turning on the lights and locking the door before making his way over to crash down beside her.

“Hi,” he says.

She turns her head to look at him. He's smiling at her, compelling her to smile back. “Hi.”

His hand inches towards her face and Jinx feels his thumb brush against her forehead, wiping a bead of sweat away. “You should take a shower.”

“With you?” she jokes, with an exaggerated wiggle of her eyebrows.

“No, not with me.” He huffs an amused breath, leaning out of her space to get up. He rises with a tired groan, pressing a hand to the back of his neck to rub at the soreness, before giving her a reassuring smile. “I’m serious, go ahead. I’ll unpack the groceries in the meantime.”

“Well, then I’m serious too,” Jinx decides, pushing herself up to stand beside him. “We’re gonna unpack this mess together, and then we’ll take a shower. Also together.” She shoots him a cheeky grin. “It’ll lower our water bill.”

“Oh, that's why?” Ekko smirks, raising an eyebrow at her. “You don’t have some ulterior motive?”

“No!” Jinx insists, faux-offended. “Why? What were you thinking about, you pervert?”

“Whatever,” Ekko laughs, grabbing one of the bags and putting it atop the counter. “Come on then, let's get this over with so we can keep that water bill low.”

She happily joins him in the kitchen and they work in comfortable silence as they unpack everything, filling up the previously empty cabinets. Jinx allows hope to fill her heart along with them; allows herself to finally believe that this can last and their home will only become fuller and fuller with their shared memories.

After all, they've already made it this far. Who's to say they can't do this for the rest of their lives?

“Hey, what if we pick up some paint tomorrow?” Jinx says, passing Ekko a bag of sugar so he can put it in the cupboard. “We could spruce up those boring walls a little.”

Ekko turns to look at her, taking the bag from her. “Oh, good thinking–

Darkness falls over the room, putting an abrupt stop to Ekko’s words.

…She really can’t have shit, huh?

“What the hell?” she hears him say while her eyes struggle to adjust to the sudden darkness. Then a bright light shines in front of her. Ekko turned on his phone’s flashlight.

Jinx blinks nonplussed. “Did…Did our power just go out?”

“Looks like it.” Ekko turns to look out the window, where the neon lights still shine bright. “And it’s just us.”

“That can’t be right.” Jinx frowns, that sense of foreboding creeping up on her again. “I’m gonna go check our meters.”

Ekko nods in agreement, swiping down his phone. The bag of sugar lies forgotten next to him. “Okay, I’m calling the energy provider in the meantime.”

She tries to ignore the uneasy feeling that grows in her gut as she reaches for her phone, turning on the flashlight before making her way to their supply closet. Upon opening the door, a cloud of dust bursts out of the supply closet, nearly sending her into a coughing fit. Jinx ignores it, simply swiping away any cobwebs so she can step inside and look at their meters.

Shit. There are no digits on it. In a panic, Jinx flips various buttons up and down to see if anything will happen. However, the apartment remains dark and it steadily gets colder because their gas no longer works either.

Eventually– when she tires of attempting to magically turn their electricity back on while being held hostage by her own panic– Jinx gives up. She tries in vain to breathe out her nerves as she steps back into the living room. Ekko has wrapped up his call and is frowning at her.

“Jinx,” he starts, rubbing at his temples. She thinks she might throw up. “I thought you called the energy company last week?”

“I did!” she insists. Didn't she? Oh no. The thought that’d been locked into a corner of her mind rushes to the forefront, slamming into her like a train. She didn't.

“If you did, I'm pretty sure we’d have electricity right now.” Ekko sighs, exasperated. “I just called them and they say you never called back when they left a message that they’d cut off our power.”

“I…” She fucked up. She always fucks up.

“Did you really forget? Or…or is this why you’ve been acting weird? Do you actually not–

“I did forget!” she shrieks, her breath becoming shorter and shorter. “I always ruin things, so I messed up again. What else is new?” The cruel laugh that escapes her throat gets smothered by an ugly sob. “And– And I know you hate me. I know you’re tired of me. Just like everyone else. I…” she trails off, her throat closing up and preventing her from continuing.

The beat of her heart drums so loudly in her ears that it drowns out everything else. She can’t even hear how Ekko must be berating her, now that he’s finally had enough of her. His voice is strangely far away. Like her head has been dunked underwater.

Tears and a lack of oxygen blur her vision. But Jinx stubbornly holds her breath anyway, tightly pressing her lips together so she doesn’t break down right here and now.

“Hey! Jinx! Look at me!”

She flinches when she feels something touch her. Ekko. His hands on her arms. But his touch feels vice-like, suffocating her. She can’t do this right now. She pulls away from him as if burned, her stumbling steps turning into a full run.

Jinx wants to crawl out of her skin.

She has to get away from this.

Away from another person who hates her guts.

Another relationship she’s ruined.

She rushes into the bathroom, frantically slamming the door behind her and fumbling with the lock. Her breath comes out shallow and shaky, leaving her so light-headed that she ends up sliding down the floor.

Her head is pounding. Or is it Ekko pounding on the door? She can’t tell the difference anymore. She covers her ears with her hands, nails digging into her scalp as she desperately tries to drown everything out. She's squeezing her eyes shut so hard it forces the tears to slide down her face.

It’s her fault.

Always her fault.

She’s just a jinx, after all.

And now Ekko hates her, just like everyone else.

When she finally gathers the nerve to open her eyes everything is agonizingly quiet. She has no idea how much time has passed as she slowly picks herself up from the ground, her body sore and cold from how long she’s sat there.

Her reflection in the bathroom mirror is a mess, her eyes swollen, streaks of mascara running down her cheeks. She would’ve laughed at the fact that she resembles a raccoon if she didn’t still feel like crawling out of her skin.

With shaky hands she opens the medicine cabinet, unscrews the cap on her medication, and swallows the pill dry. The ensuing silence has her slamming the cabinet shut with more force than necessary.

Ekko must be sleeping already, assuming he’s still there. She’s too afraid to find out; too afraid to leave this bathroom and face the inevitable end of their relationship.

Instead, she kicks off her shoes and then strips off the rest of her clothes. They lie abandoned on the floor as Jinx steps into the bath and turns on the water.

The shower is frightfully cold, but Jinx is grateful for it. This is what she deserves, after all. She's shaking all over and her teeth are clattering, but at least her tears blend right in with the pour of water raining down on her skin.

Her fingers are pruning by the time she finally turns off the faucet. The iciness of the water no longer affects her, instead she just feels numb to the core. Water drips off her and onto the floor, as she steps out of the tub, leaving a wet trail in her wake when she finally gathers the courage to unlock the bathroom door and push it open.

In the dead of the night, its creaky hinges are like nails on a chalkboard. But the silence that follows is far more painful. He left. Of course he did. What did Jinx expect? She ruined this just like she ruined everything in her life. Why did he even ask her to move in with him? So he’d finally have a fucking excuse to leave her?

She makes her way to the bedroom and finds he’s not there either. One last bit of hope, that she didn’t realize she still possessed, shatters at the realization; at the confirmation that he really did leave her.

She doesn’t even have the energy to sob anymore. Her tears just quietly slide down her face as she shuffles into the room and scavenges through the dressing drawer containing Ekko’s clothes until she finds his favorite hoodie.

She’s tempted to set the thing on fire; to cut it into pieces and throw it into the trash. But honestly? She misses him. And it smells so much like him. So instead she just pulls it over her head and crawls into bed.

Jinx firmly wraps the blanket around herself to fight off the chill, but it's little use. The duvet is a poor substitute for the warmth Ekko always radiates when he's wrapped up around her. The fact that she’s still wet from her shower isn’t helping matters either.

It takes her several hours to stop crying. Even her tear ducts end up getting exhausted. Though she inevitably passes out, it's a fitful sleep. Jinx can hardly remember the last time she slept alone, but she'll have to learn how to get used to it again.

To put it plainly: Jinx wakes up feeling like shit. Her head is killing her, her skin is dry, and her hair is a damp, tangled mess.

And worst of all, Ekko isn’t lying beside her.

She reaches for his pillow, squeezing it to her chest and breathing in his smell. Maybe if she keeps lying here, it’ll turn out that none of this is real. It was all just a nightmare and Ekko will be in the kitchen. He’ll be eating those stupid fucking froot loops as fast as he can before he has to run to catch his train to work.

She spends several more minutes in bed, before deciding to get up and rip off the bandaid. He’s gone. Maybe instead of staying here and drowning in her misery, she’d be better off if she just left too.

Even if the thought makes her want to cry all over again.

Her head is spinning when she gets out of bed, but she forces herself to shuffle to the dresser anyway and pulls out a pair of sweats and socks, quietly slipping them on before leaving the room.

She stumbles into the living room. Her heart hurts being in here without Ekko. The unhung curtains, the TV still sealed in bubble wrap, the posters they securely tucked away– All of it for nothing. The home they were supposed to share would be emptied before they could even fill it.

She pauses when her foot bumps into something hard on the floor and looks down to see her phone. Jinx must’ve dropped it last night without noticing. With a frown, she picks it up, tapping the screen and cringing when she sees her battery at fourteen percent.

Then she sees her notifications: Seven missed calls, four voicemails, and six unread messages. All from Ekko.

Jinx drops her phone as if burned. It clatters on the floor, but she can’t bring herself to pick it up when she feels panic overtaking her again. She doesn’t want to know what he has to say. But at the same time, she’s dying to find out.

The dilemma has her pacing the room for ten minutes before she groans and snatches her stupid phone off the floor again. With her heart in her throat, Jinx opens the messages.

BEST BOY ❣️ Hey I get that you don't wanna talk to me rn so imma stay with my folks for now I'm really sorry abt what happened can we talk about it? Just tell me if you want me to come back or nah Please I love you

Jinx can only blink as she reads his messages. Then she makes herself stop so she doesn’t tear up again. She moves to sit back on the bean bag and opens the first voicemail.

“Hey.” Her heart squeezes at the sound of Ekko’s voice. It’s barely been half a day, yet somehow she feels like she hasn’t heard him talk to her in an eternity.

“I’m, uh, really sorry for hurting you. Oh. And I emptied the fridge cause, you know, no power and all that…And I just-” He abruptly stops, and all Jinx hears is a loud sigh. “Man, I suck at doing these things over the phone. Could we talk about it? In person? I’ll, uh, give you some space, but please let me know if you’re okay, at least.”

The other voicemails echo similar sentiments. Jinx listens to them over and over again, despite the way her heart aches.

He sounds so distraught. Stumbling over his words and his voice cracking in a way that’s so uncharacteristic of him. Just when she thought she had no tears left to cry, more fall from her eyes as she listens to Ekko speak.

Jinx aggressively wipes her tears away with her sleeve and assesses their apartment again through a different lens.

Maybe…maybe she can still try and fix things. She might not succeed but, fuck it, she has nothing left to lose at this point. At the very least– even if her relationship with Ekko is doomed, even if he’s already realized he’s better off without her– maybe she can try to make this less bad for him. Because he always made things better for her.

She picks up her phone, reopens the messages Ekko left her, and begins typing. And deleting her words. And typing again. And deleting her words again. The cycle only ends when her phone interrupts it by notifying her that her battery level is at ten percent.

…Alright, she should seriously wrap this up. She types out four simple words, then locks her phone and gets ready to go run some errands.

You come over at 6

A drop of paint falls to the newspaper on the floor when Jinx lifts the paint roller too quickly in her excitement to finish the job. The sun is already beginning to set, casting deep shadows and a warm orange glow over the room, but Jinx is so close to the finish line that she refuses to quit now.

She’s so caught up in the job, that the sound of a lock turning has her freezing on the spot and staring at the unmoving paint roller on the wall, before she forces herself to keep rolling, not looking in the direction of the front door.

Up and down. Up and down. She focuses on the motions of her paint roller; on the hyper-pop music blaring from her phone; on anything but the sound of Ekko's nearing footsteps.

“You started painting?”

She still can't help but take a sharp breath when she realizes how close his voice sounds, looking over her shoulder to see him standing behind her.

He looks as groggy as she feels, with deep eyebags set under his eyes and frown lines marring his forehead as if they’re permanently etched on his face.

“You look like shit,” she blurts out.

He lets out an incredulous laugh. It gets rid of those frown lines on his forehead like a tidal wave washing away footsteps in the sand. “You always know just what to say.”

Jinx lets out a weak chuckle. It really does suck how even at a time like this, talking to Ekko is as easy as breathing.

“So,” he continues, while Jinx sets aside the paint roller and turns off the music playing from her phone, “black, huh?”

She looks back at the wall she just finished painting. “Yeah, I thought…” she nervously picks at her cuticles, “I just thought it'd be cool to spray paint art on it after.”

“Great minds, huh?” Ekko awkwardly chuckles.

Confused, she turns to see what he means and realizes he's holding a bag full of spray paint in one hand, and a bucket of white paint in the other.

“Oh.” Now it’s her turn to feel awkward. “Yeah, I guess they do.”

She waits for him to respond, but Ekko looks as lost as she feels, his eyes nervously flickering between the candles decorating the apartment and her.

Seeing him like that would normally make her feel more anxious, but at this point, Jinx has already made peace with the fact they won’t be able to salvage this. So fine, guess she’ll be the one who takes the plunge.

“I called the energy provider too.” She sighs, pacing around the room. “They can hook up the power again in two days. So I figured candles are better than nothing for now.”

She stops, closing her eyes to focus on forcing her next words from her mouth. “And I went over to Vi's place. She, uh,” she's still picking at her cuticles and it's starting to hurt, but the pain is the only thing grounding her, “she said I can stay at her place. I already packed my things, so you don't have to worry about me overstaying my welcome and stuff.”

“Wait. What?!”

Her eyes widen at the sudden outburst. She whips her head in Ekko's direction, nearly stumbling backward when she sees how close he got to her.

But what really throws her off is the expression on his face. Ekko looks…devastated. But this is what he wanted, isn't it? And she was even gracious enough about the whole thing to give him an easy way out.

He reaches out a hand as if to touch her, but suddenly falters mid-air.

“Why–” His voice cracks, forcing him to clear his throat. “I thought you asked me to come here so we could talk. You know, and figure this thing out.”

She grinds her jaw in frustration. Did she mess up again? She spent the whole day trying to make things right, to get out of his hair with as little mess as possible. But he still looks upset with her, she still fucked this up somehow.

“Jinx,” Ekko nervously looks down at the floor before he continues, “do you…Do you wanna break up with me?”

Wait.

What?

She gapes at him. Before she can ask how in the hell he reached that conclusion, he continues, the words spilling from his mouth, as if her suggestion broke some invisible dam.

“You've been acting off the whole week. And every time I tried to talk about it, you'd just shut me down. And I thought, I don't know, maybe I'm just overthinking. Maybe I should just let it go, but I couldn’t. ‘Cause the only other conclusion I could reach is that maybe you didn’t wanna live with me. That I’m moving too fast and let it ruin this thing we got going.”

Her entire world tilts off its axis at his confession. Flustered, Jinx can only say, “But aren’t you mad at me? You hate me.”

“What? No! Never.” He aggressively scratches the back of his head. “I did lose my cool. And I’m so fucking sorry about that…but, Jinx, me getting mad at you will never mean that I hate you. If anything, I was scared you hated me now.”

Oh. She’s so stupid. This entire time, she was so caught up in her head, so damn worried that Ekko’s behavior meant that he regretted this decision, that it never once occurred to her that he might feel that way too.

She quietly gasps when she feels his hand touch hers, his tentative hold on it preventing her from picking at her cuticles anymore.

“Jinx…” he quietly starts again, “I think it’s kinda inevitable that we’re gonna get mad at each other sometimes. Normal, even. But that doesn’t mean I'll stop loving you.

“We should have the comfort of knowing that despite pissing each other off sometimes, the love will stay. And if I do or say something that makes you feel like it won’t…then please just tell me.”

His words make her choke up, but she does her best to swallow it down as she finally gathers the nerve to ask the question that has been haunting her this entire time, “But aren't you tired of me?”

Ekko opens his mouth to respond, but Jinx continues before he can get any rebuttal in.

“And do you still love me?” Her voice is so small, it makes the question even more embarrassing than it already is.

Because she knows she’s being annoying and a burden, but she can’t stop the words from spilling out anymore, the dam breaking at the force of her insecurities.

“Sometimes, I just can’t tell,” she continues. “And then yesterday I was here all alone. And then I woke up this morning and thought what if tomorrow I’m alone too? What if I have to wake up without you every day now? What if I pissed you off one too many times, did too much stupid shit and–”

And she’s so overwhelmed by her own feelings, so emotionally exhausted, that she falls to the floor, too tired to hold up her own weight. She clutches onto Ekko’s hand like a lifeline, who grips hers back tightly before sitting down in front of her.

“Yes, I love you, Jinx.” He says it with such confidence, with so much conviction that, for a moment, it completely halts her train of thought. “I loved you yesterday and I’ll love you tomorrow.”

He reaches forward with his other hand, gingerly brushing his thumb across her cheekbone and it’s only then Jinx realizes that she’s crying again.

“And I’ll tell you as many times as you need to hear it, okay?” he assures, and the only thing Jinx can do is fervently nod, clumsily crawling into his space and burying her head in the crook of his shoulder as she quietly sobs.

“In fact,” he holds securely despite her tremors, his touch grounding, “I’ll tell you so often you’ll probably get annoyed. Let’s start with five times by breakfast. Then maybe another ten by lunch.”

An ugly sound leaves her at his declaration, something between a laugh and a sob. Even at a moment like this, he’s so stupid. And she loves him so much for it. So much so that sometimes she fears her heart might actually beat so fast it’ll break out of her chest and kill her.

“Me too,” she cries. “Me too. I love you so much. And I’m sorry.” Those are the only words she manages to get out before she breaks down in his arms.

When she’s finally calmed down enough to steady her breathing, and her sobs have waned into quiet sniffles, she looks up at him and says, “You know this will never get easier, right? That I'm always gonna be like this.”

“I know.” He brushes the remaining tears off her face, his own eyes shining with unshed tears as well. “I don't want easier. And I’m not going anywhere.” She opens her mouth to retort, but he beats her to the punch, adding on, “Yes, even when you piss me the fuck off.”

She snorts, resting her head on his shoulder again while he brushes her hair. She feels so much lighter after everything that’s been weighing her down these last few days. Jinx closes her eyes and breathes in his scent, allowing it to steady her after the emotional whiplash she’s endured.

“...Are you wearing my hoodie?” Ekko suddenly asks, breaking the comfortable silence they were sitting in.

“Well.” Jinx awkwardly clears her throat. “Yeah. And I’m keeping it too.”

At her declaration, he throws his head back and laughs, the vibrations of it traveling from his body through hers. It’s a sound so loud and bright that it leaves Jinx in awe. “You laughed…”

The mirth dancing in his eyes softens into something sweeter as he says, “Yeah, 'cause you make me happy.”

Her heart feels like it’s bursting at the seams. She grabs both his cheeks and kisses him, using the contact of their lips as a conduit to express everything she feels to him. Her love for him is simply too overwhelming to ever put into words.

When she finally breaks the kiss, she nods to the wall, wet paint still drying. “Can we finish it together? We…we should both paint on it, I think.” He nods, picking himself up off the floor and holding a hand out to help her up.

“Bet my shit will look cooler than yours,” he says, picking up a bottle of spray paint and tossing it at her.

She laughs incredulously, popping the lid off the can and shaking it. “In your dreams, mister!”

By the time they finish, neither of them can agree on who actually had the best graffiti (but Jinx knows it’s her). A day later, they find out that they accidentally broke their lease agreement with all the graffiti, so they’d have to paint over it anyway.

Jinx can’t really bring herself to worry about it though, not when they’re both so happy.

#timebomb #ekkojinx #ekko #jinx #arcane #league of legends #writing #fanfiction #modern au #hungry posts

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nightshadeshadow123 · 10 months ago

Text

Sunshine is far away, rain clouds linger on

Based on the last episode of House Of The Dragon season 1. Just alternative ending to give it a happy ending, the new trailer have me feeling some kind of way when they found the remains of Arrax and Luke so wanted to write a comfort fic. Reader's dragon is roughly the same size as Caraxes in this. (Y/D/N) means your dragon's name. Got the title idea from @m3g555 book ideas on wattpad. If anyone knows where the gif of Rhaenyra and Daemon is from pls tell so I can give credits, Arrax one is from @lukearys

Rhaenyra Targaryen x Reader x Daemon Targaryen (although he's only mentioned in this one) Long cringe fic tbh but my first time writing for HOTD. If anyone knows which dragon readers dragon is inspired from in the gif Ily.

You felt gut churning dread engulf you when seeing Aemond on the back of Vhagar taking off into the dark skies, gaining up on the smaller white figure of Arrax and Luke but this only spurred you to ran faster to get to your dragon, running through the mud and pelting rain while desperately calling out the name of your trusty dragon who let out a croon, wings and talons thundering as loud as the thunder in the unforgiving sky above as he made his way to you in a hurry to meet you half way when hearing the panic and urgency in your voice, his towering black and grey scaled body coming into view making you felt a bit relieved, grabbing onto one of his spines to clamber your way upon the saddle on his back all the while cussing the heavy furs you wore for the trip slowing you down by being soaked.

The way your heart was hammering in your chest made you flinch more that the harsh lightning booming above. Rarely did anything scare you like this, especially knowing that Aemond is out after Luke on his silly little revenge fit he's still in.

"Sōvegon!" You urged when you had the reigns in hand, knuckles turning whiter by the moment from both the cold of being soaked to the bone from the raging rain and from how tight you're gripping the reigns when (Y/D/N) took off with speed, immediately setting to follow behind Vhagar, strong wings flapping repeatedly to gain speed and find gait in the unforgiving storm that was strong enough to make even a dragon struggle to keep up, making you even more fearful for Lucerys and Arrax with their much smaller size that is already struggling.

The wind howling through your ears was as deafening as the thunder and rain that made your soaked hair stick to sides of your face, occasionally hearing the screeches of Arrax in a way to try be comforting to Lucerys and the flapping of Vhagar's strong wings and the low rumbling coming from (Y/D/N) until you lost sight on them from the dark skies and clouds.

Vhagar's shadow loomed above Arrax tauntingly, adding more dread as the lightning briefly casted over her form. Luke look up fearfully but was too late to see her as she disappeared into the clouds again, only hearing the flapping of her huge wings.

Your heart nearly jumped into your throat when Arrax suddenly swerved to the side and (Y/D/N) swerved the other way, narrowly avoiding Vhagar from colliding into you, a uncomfortable growl leaving him while you frantically looked around, trying to catch sight of the old beast after she disappeared into the dark clouds again, only seeing Arrax's figure being slightly illuminated by the lightning reflecting against his white scales and Luke on his back just as frantically looking around to every side, feeling slightly relieved when he caught sight of you not too far away from them.

It was proved difficult with the rain roughly pelting in your faces and the dark clouds to spot the other dragon, having to repeatedly blink to get the rain from obscuring your visions.

You felt uneasy when (Y/D/N) became tensed underneath you, the steam coming from his snout becoming more prominent to your eyes before hearing the flapping off Vhagar's wings until she broke from the clouds menacingly from your right, eyes widening when Vhagar snapped her jaws at Arrax before trying to grab the much smaller dragon with her claws that they managed to narrowly avoid by diving dowards with Vhagar still hot on their trail when diving behind them.

"Dive!" you instructed to your trusty dragon, holding on tighter on the reigns when he dove downwards through the pelting rain and the darkened clouds to the raging sea below, narrowly avoiding Vhagar's tail from knocking you both out of the sky when he got dangerously close to her but this only spurred the two of you to go faster to try and get her and Aemond's attention away from them, the adrenaline pumping through your veins feeling exhilarating despite the fear gripping your heart in a death hold, not the good kind in your opinion.

"Adhirikydho! pālegon!"(Quickly! Turn) You heard Luke yell to Arrax when the three of you came close to rock formations, sharply turning after spreading his wings, the wind catching in them as Vhagar and (Y/D/N) follow suit, the wind tugging your dragon's wings made you grip even tighter than you thought possible, you could feel the way your hands are hurting from the grip on the reins, biting your lip until you tasted the metallic taste of blood, pulling on the reins to make the unexpected turn, wanting this to end and to just get home safely with Luke, back to your beloveds and the kids and just to warm up and sleep for hours. This chase was taking toll on you fast so you can imagine how exhausted Luke and Arrax must feel. You swore if you could you'd slap Aemond so hard that his hair would cocoon around his head for seven days.

Feeling annoyed when hearing the amused laughter of Aemond despite the rain and wind, smile wiped from his face when Arrax took another turn and dove between a narrow gap between two formations, causing your dragon and his dragon having to quickly fly higher again on time to avoid smashing into solid rock. At this moment you felt a little more grateful for Arrax's smaller size, having the upper hand at better agility and speed and being able to fit through the narrow gap beneat you and Aemond's dragons, knowing full well that Vhagar wouldn't be able to fly through that even if it meant yours wouldn't either because of his size. He wasn't Vhagar's size but he was much bigger than Arrax.

The time it took for Vhagar to reach a safe altitude you've managed to fly up right next to them, seeing Aemond glace your way as you glared at him, amusement dancing in his eyes and smile, throwing his head back as he burst out into a fit of laughter.

"Ao own iā gēlȳn! valītsos!" (You own a debt! Boy!)He yelled, furiously looking down to try and spot the child and the young dragon who have vanished from sight, this had you feeling relieved.

"Debts be damned Aemond! Leave the child alone!" You felt the anger bubble inside of you once again. They were kids back then and he asked for it in the first place. Luke was only trying to defend his brothers and the accident caused Aemond one eye but he still gained Vhagar for that and it was years ago.

Aemond huffed out in annoyance, opening his mouth to respond back to you but at that moment you heard Lucerys panicked voice.

"Daor Arrax!" (No Arrax!)He yelled before a fireball unexpectedly got hurled in Vhagar's face as Arrax zipped past the two of you when Vhagar nearly jerked her head into your dragon, a growl leaving her while you flinched in suprise when (Y/D/N) jerked to the side.

"Daor! Arrax! Dohaeragon nyke!" (No Arrax! Serve me!) you heard Luke ordered in fear, pulling frantically on his reins, feeling scared when seeing Luke lose control over Arrax as they disappeared into the clouds and more terrified when Vhagar let out an angry screech and begin to set after the tiny dragon again but this time you've got (Y/D/N) into motion on time, following on Vhagar's heel as Aemond got fearful when he lost control of her too, trying to steer her back and yelling at her to stop.

"Vhagar! No!"

Lucerys felt slightly relieved when they broke through the clouds and found calmness and sunshine above the storm, feeling Arrax relaxing too while he scanned the place to try and catch sight of you or Aemond, heart still beating unsteady when he didn't find you next to him.

He went to call out but nearly screamed when Vhagar unexpectedly broke from the clouds very close to his right, jaws open as she came at them with lightning speed but was heavily startled and confused when a dark shadow whipped past them and crashed straight into the side of Vhagar's neck while Arrax let's out fearful screeches while flapping repeatedly to not get swooped into the mess, feeling Vhagar's hot breath against them briefly.

Lucerys felt a mix of relief when seeing it's you on your dragon who barreld into the side of Vhagar and saved him and Arrax from becoming a meal to Vhagar when he could make out your dragon's black scales and red eyes.

You had to grab onto one of (Y/D/N) neck spines to keep yourself from falling off of his back when he dugged his sharp talons and teeth into the side of Vhagar's neck with a ferocious force that sent the four of your tumbling back into the dark clouds beneath you with a surprised roar from Vhagar and Luke letting out a yell of fear as he watched you fall back into the raging storm below, fearing for the worst of you being hurt or worse.

You've always been like his second mother even before you were with his mother where you claimed the two of you were only 'friends' having known her and Alicent since childhood, and the two boys have know you since their birth when you've always been there and having sided with Rheanyra after the whole Alicent thing, and you, him and his brother always getting into random shenanigans with their mother having given up on scolding when you and her sons got in trouble or got a bit too carried away while Daemon were urging you on and occasionally getting caught up too in it when he got involved in the relationship. And the time you wanted to strangle Alicent when she made Rhaenyra walk up flights of stairs right after giving birth, if it weren't for Laenor stopping you and your worry to support her all the way up each step, having given Alicent the most poisonous glare while holding Rhaenyra and baby Joffrey close. You were there to help her look after Joffrey when he was still a baby after Harwin's death when Rheanyra took it hard even though you were hesitant when it came to babies and their amusement to find you asleep with the baby asleep on your chest or either wrapped up in a blanket in your arms with you under your dragon's wing while you spoke with the dragon softly as to not disturb the sleeping baby. It was no different when baby Aegon and Viserys were born after the union with Daemon, it was hard to keep up with seven kids with Daemon's twin daughters, Baela and Rhaena, included from his previous marriage but those two were able to keep you atleast a bit sane since they were less unruly and always eager to help you and Rhaenyra around. And sword training with him, Daemon and Jacaerys and teaching them about the dragons as they grew up with their dragons by their side.

He smiled when remembering a few moons(months) ago how you nearly fainted when Rhaenyra told you she's pregnant and there is yet again a new addition on the way and how pale your face have gotten, eyes wide and Jacaerys having gotten worried along with Rhaenyra as she went to your side to make certain you start breathing again after the news, fussing over you despite all the amusement at your surprise, while Daemon were snickering in the corner along with Baela and Rhaena giggling. But during the pregnancy you were tailing behind her, constantly fussing over her, pulling out chairs for her and letting her rest while helping Daemon and the maids with Aegon and Viserys, refusing to let her do anything that could strain her too much and making sure she's eating healthy all the while glaring daggers at Daemon from his teasing but you made sure to get back at him.

You felt even more disheveled from all the clashing when Vhagar finally backed down, hovering heavily in front of you, Aemond looking to be in a heaving state too, for once looking shamefull when looking back at you, breathing heavily.

"That was very idiotic of you to chase a damn child on a much smaller and less experienced dragon on a freaking war dragon Aemond!" Your voice sounded as alarming as the thunder as you hissed the words at him like poison, a burning fury behind your eyes.

"I...I..I'm so sorry (Y/N)." He spoke hesitantly, trying his best to not look away in his nervous state as your words got to him, reality finally seeping in as adrenaline began to slowly wear off.

"You could have killed them Aemond. What were you thinking?"

"I lost control over Vhagar. I just wanted to scare him and..."He mumbled before trailing off, shame in his voice at having to admit that. His mother certainly would have been greatly disappointed if she witnessed this as much as his father who never really gave him the attention he needed, only having ever noticed his mistakes.

Your heart were still beating like crazy in your chest, thudding through your ears as you took in his words, trying to calm your breathing, feeling concerned at the bleeding wounds from Vhagar's claws on (Y/D/N)'s side from when she grabbed onto him to throw him to escape his jaws on her. There were scars on Vhagar you felt guilty about too that had to be caused to get them away from Luke and Arrax but it was necessary.

You wanted to scold him more but only opted to rub at your soaked temple, willing your mind to just be calm, half understanding where Aemond is coming from but still dissapointed, mostly in the lack of guidance he had from his parents for he doesn't know that dragons can't be controlled as freely as he thought and that they aren't slaves and that they'll still lash out if they so desire. You admired Viserys when he was still alive because he was Rhaenyra's father and Daemon's brother but he could have made more effort with his children he had with Alicent.

"Just go home Aemond, you got lucky this time because if anything have happened to Luke I swear to the old gods and new gods you'd have had Daemon, Rhaenyra and me coming after you." You finally said after a few moments, pushing the hair sticking to your face from the rain still pelting on you both, grimacing at how heavy your limbs felt to even move anymore at this point.

Aemond looked as if he wanted to say something more for a moment but chose to remain silent, before setting Vhagar back into motion in the other direction, glancing back at you briefly before you too set (Y/D/N) into motion to find Luke again after seeing Aemond and Vhagar dissapear further into the storm.

Luke made Arrax glide through the air slowly, circling two times while his eyes scanned the clouds beneath frantically, the coil in his stomach tightening when he saw no sign of any movement that could be you, contemplating if he should leave or dive back into the storm to try and see if he could find any sight of you, wondering how he was gonna break the news to his mother and father if you are dead or hurt.

They wouldn't take this well at all that was for certain. He himself was beginning to the tear up when the adrenaline wore down, the situation finally settling in as he wiped furiously at the tears forming in his eyes, hearing Arrax croon slightly below when sensing the heartbreak of his young ride through their bond.

It was a few moments longer when they heard flapping of wings again, immediately alert and tense as Luke scanned below them, scared of it being Aemond and Vhagar, ready to finish them off too but the two calmed slightly when hearing the familiar rumble of (Y/D/N) before the two of you broke through the clouds, gliding up next to them.

"You're alive!" Lucerys yelled happily, a tired but gleeful smile on his face when seeing the two of you, eyes lingering on the blood and wounds on (Y/D/N)'s side as you shot him a just as exhausted but comforting smile, both of you looking worse for wear after the intensity of the situation.

"Of course kid. I'm too hard to get rid of that easily much like Daemon." You shrugged playfully, laughing softly when Luke laughed, humming in agreement to your words, while the two of you set back home, trying your best to take deep breaths to calm your raging heart that was still beating like the wings of a hummingbird in your chest, trying process everything that just happened in this short time. How did a simple trip not that far away from home turn into this?

"I won't disagree with that."

You were grateful you went along with Lucerys on the trip to Storm's End to try and get Lord Borros Baratheon to support Rhaenyra when you saw how nervous the child were despite trying his best to mask it for his mother's sake. If you weren't here to have helped you grimace thinking of what could have happened.

It was quite for a few moments with you keeping a close eye on Luke and Arrax and occasionally patting at your dragon's neck in comfort and gratitude while worried about his wounds, hearing him crooning lowly in response to ease your worries.

"What happend back there?" Luke decided to ask, glancing your way curiously, eyes full of questions and curiosity.

Shrugging slightly you swiped the sticky hair from your face again, eyes trained foward in the sky before giving him attention.

"We've managed to get Vhagar to back down. She didn't take to that too kindly as you can see with the wounds. They are both okay and left after Aemond got her back in control." You explained, exhaustion heavily in your voice.

Lucerys gave you a shy smile after another few moments passed.

"Thank you for helping us back there. That was really brave of you for risking your life to do that."

You returned the smile, waving him off while looking out into the skies, feeling calmer and happier when seeing the familiar place you call home finally appearing in your sight.

"Luke, it was nothing big. You know very well I won't let anything hurt you nor your siblings and mother and father either and won't hesitate doing whatever it takes to keep you all safe. And the real brave one here is really you and Arrax. You'll make a mighty fine Lord of Driftmark one day." You told him sincerely, smiling at the child as he tried to hide his embarrassment at your words, urging (Y/D/N) to go faster when Arrax picked up speed towards Dragonstone with an excited screech, just as eager as all of you to get home to your lovers, eat and melt into their arms and rest.

Soon enough you landed next to Arrax and Luke after the people scattered out of the way with murmurs and awe, sliding off of (Y/D/N)'s back, gently patting his side as he nudged your side before Luke ran up to you and throw himself against you in a tight hug, nearly sending the two of you stumbling to the hard ground but you returned the hug, gently ruffling his already messy hair after wrapping an arm around his smaller form until you heard the sounds of people's murmurs again, and looked up to see the various people of Dragonstone and royal guards watching you all curiously, some greeting you both before two dragon keepers rushed over to take the reigns of your dragons to tend to (Y/D/N) wounds and let the two dragons get rest after proper care.

You looked up in the sky when a shadow casted over the ground, seeing Daemon's dragon Caraxes flying about in the cloudy sky, and spotting Syrax resting on the grassy field in the distance, her yellow scales shimmering under the few sun rays peeking through the clouds causing a small smile to tug at your lips at seeing your lovers dragons so peaceful despite still being worried about (Y/D/N) wounds.

You followed behind Lucerys as he began walking to the towering keep tiredly, body sore, fighting the urge to close your eyes, your whole body felt so heavy and exhausted and you just wanted to sink into a warm bath and just get in bed and fall asleep in your lovers arms.

"I'm so sleeping four days straight. Jace and father can forget about training for the next few days." You lowly hummed in agreement as the guards pushed open the heavy doors, letting you and Luke through as you nodded your head in gratitude at them, running a hand through your hair, huffing at the tangled mess it was from the rain and bizzare events from earlier. Storm's End definitely lived up to it's name.

"Agreed kid. Not even Balerion himself would be able to drag me out of bed."

You spotted one of the guard standing at his post, deciding to ask him where Rheanyra and Daemon is.

"My lady. Price Lucerys, welcome back. Queen Rhaenyra is in the meeting room." He said and you give a smile in thanks to him before walking to the room with Luke following behind, fingers trailing the rough stone walls of the dark building.

You soon reached the meeting room where Rhaenyra, one of your beloved's is, seeing her talking with a few council members, all the talking halting as soon as your arrived and one of the door guards announced your arrival, all eyes on you making you feel a little uncomfortable but keeping your head high as your eyes met with her dazzling voilet eyes, resisting the urge to just rush over to her and embrace her tightly and just melt into her comforting arms.

She could immediately sense the exhaustion from you and her son, and that something bad must have happend as if your rough and tattered appearanced weren't a dead give away, she quickly dismissed the council and guards before hastily making her way towards you when you relaxed, guard slipping down the moment her soft comforting hand cupped your cheek and her familiar .eyes scanned your face before landing on Lucerys, questions and concern swirling behind her eyes at the appearance you both were in.

"What happend?" The question made you feel tired all over again as the memories replayed through your head like a mantra, your lips pulling into a tight lipped smile, blinking a few times to clear your head, mentally preparing yourself.

"The pirate-eyed Targaryen and his demented bald granny dragon happend." You could hear Luke trying to keep his snort in from your name for Aemond and his dragon, biting his lip to try and contain his smile as he nudged into your as Rhaenyra looked confused for a moment before realization hit her at who you meant, face paling despite wanting to smile lightly at the words that left your mouth, eyes more alert while scanning the two of you, relaxing when your hand brushed against her swollen stomach, her hand landing on top of yours as you made eye contact again, giving her a assuring smile despite your heart raising as the memory flashed vividly through your mind.

"That's quite a story but yeah, Aemond was there before us, already having gotten the Baratheon's on their side. He saw Lucerys and just lost his mind, wanting to take out his eye as pay back for his and by the time a raging storm have started, we were leaving but Aemond chased after Luke even when he ran to his dragon despite the guards trying to stop him when I told Luke to run." You could feel the anger from Rhaenyra as she worriedly grabbed his hand with her free hand as he stood closer to your side but she could sense there were more to the story.

"And this ended up getting worse because Aemond was dead set on getting to Luke, he chased behind him and Arrax in the raging storm, I felt so terrified of anything bad happening and I got on (Y/D/N) and followed behind them to try get their attention away from them. He kept taunting Lucerys and Vhagar tried a few times to bite at them and she nearly did when Aemond lost control over her when Arrax shot a fireball at her when feeling threatened." The more you spoke the more you could see Rhaenyra getting worried and angry, pulling the child into her side protectively, her fingers running through his hair as he hugged her, being careful over her pregnant stomach while you intertwined your hand with her other one this time, bringing it your mouth and kissing it gently, letting your lips linger on the soft skin, knowing this helps her calm down.

Stressing weren't good for the baby and you were determined to keep her calm despite the grim reality of the story you have to tell her.

"Mother, she and (Y/D/N) managed to dive in on time to stop anything bad from happening but (Y/D/N) got hurt by Vhagar and I was so scared when I didn't see them for awhile but we're all safe now! They were really brave." Lucerys spoke up admiration making you chuckle as she smiled gently at your son.

"Is that so? I don't doubt that because they both have always been brave." She moved her hand to his cheek fondly as he nodded eagerly.

"My love the real brave one was all Lucerys and Arrax." You spoke with smile, patting him on the shoulder before ruffling his hair causing you and his mother to laugh he huffed in embarrassment from your words, trying to play it cool as he tried fixing his unruly hair, failing miserably and only making it look worse.

After the laughing died down she pulled both of you into a group hug, holding onto both of you tightly when a tear slipped from her eye, feeling beyond relieved that the two of you got home safely but still feeling the underlying madness at Aemond's pettiness and how he could have gotten either one or both of you killed.

You happily melted into her warm hug, face nuzzling into her platinum locks while you felt her comforting scent wash over you, grounding you and serving as a solid reminder that you're both home and safe where you all belonged.

Daemon would certainly handle this news way worse with his short temper but it's a good thing you and her are there to stop him from doing something bad. He would no doubt jump on Caraxes and burn down King's Landing if given reason enough.

Reluctantly pulling away from the hug, Rhaenyra kissed your cheek gently before turning to Luke.

"Ask the maids to prepare a bath for you and get dressed in comfortable clothes then come down for a meal, the cooks have been preparing your favorite." You watched the interaction with a fond smile, heart melting at the two as he lightened up at her words before rushing out of the room and down the halls after closing the doors.

You walked over to her, hugging her from behind while your hands landed on her stomach, rubbing softly as she leant back against you, a content smile when you planted kisses against her neck then cheek, resting your head on her shoulder and just gently swinging her from side to side, closing your eyes and taking in her scent when her hand landed on the back of your head and the other one on top of yours, squeezing gently.

"Thank you so much for keeping Lucerys safe even if you risked your own life." You heard her murmur, hearing the way her voice caught in her throat as tears threatened to spill but you hummed in a comforting way, hugging her tighter.

"My love, there is no need to thank me for that. I'd do it again in a heartbeat to keep you, our sons and big family safe and would gladly give up my own life if I have to to ensure your all safe and protected." You told her with emotion bleeding through every word, feeling at ease when she gently squeezed your arm.

"Nyke gīmigon ñuha sīmontan. Nyke'll gaomagon keskydoso syt jemome tolī." (I know my rose. I'll do the same for all of you too) You melted at her endearing name for you and her words and how her voice have that calming effect on you when speaking in high Valyrian. You could just drift off on her like this if you could and stay in this moment forever.

"Where is Daemon? I saw Caraxes earlier when we got here but no sign of him when entering the keep." You questioned softly, your head still on her shoulder and lips grazing her cheek in a soft kiss as she hummed with a grin, leaning her head to connect her lips with yours once again in a slow but gentle kiss that lasted a few seconds.

"He's probably still outside with the royal blacksmith. He said he wanted to get something made for little Visenya for when she's born." You softly made a sound of acknowledgement, remembering when he asked you on some advice between choosing what to have made for the baby.

The two of you stayed that way for a few moments longer before she pulled away, gently grabbing both your hands and leaning in to kiss you yet again, smiling into the kiss and causing you to tiredly grin when meeting with her voilet eyes, sparks flaring between your gaze after pulling away from the kiss.

"You're beauty never fail to amaze me." You mumbled with a dreamy voice making her cheeks turn slightly red while she laughed shyly, the sound making your grin grow even bigger by the moment.

"Come my beloved, let's go get a bath prepared for you and then join Lucerys, Joffrey, Baela and Rhaena for a meal then get rest. I'll let one of the guard's call for Daemon and fetch Viserys and Aegon. They've all been eager to see you again." She pulled you to the doors and towards your shared room as you nodded, allowing her to pull you along as her hand gripped yours like her life depended on it, too scared to let go for even a moment and eager to spend time with you, Daemon and the kids and already plotting on how to make Aemond wish he weren't born. She can only silently pray that Jace returns safely too.

#rhaenyra targaryen x reader #rheanyra targaryen #house of the dragon x reader #daemon targaryen x reader x rhaenyra targaryen #daemon targeryen x reader #hotd x reader #rhaenyra targaryen imagine #daemon targaryen imagine #daemyra x reader

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yellowbunnydreams · 11 months ago

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Do you need some Vitamin D? (Incubus! William x Oblivious! F! Reader) [Part 1]

~Hi lovelies, I'm aware I have been a shitty author and disappeared for a long time, but I have been trying to get caught up with real life and honestly kinda hyper-fixated on minecraft for a week but I'm determined to write! I want to give you all the lovely things so here is an extremely belated Valentines Day fic about monstrous William Afton~

~Happy Valentines, Galentines, Pal-entines and fork-tines to you all! Today we're doing something a little bit silly and something very sweet in honour of the romantic day....A silly fic of monster William x oblivious reader, because let's face it, we all have at least one moment where flirting has gone straight over our heads and we missed the boat.~

@ruh--roh-raggy

CW: 18+ MINORS DNI. Fluff, age gap (Reader 20's - William Afton 40's(?)), teratophilia, meet-cute, punny pick-up lines, scenes of working out, minor porn-logic, ditzy! reader, could be classed as bimbo! reader?, size-difference, flirting, monster-lover, sexual innuendos, Monster! AU

William Afton ran his tongue over his teeth as he lost himself in thought once again. His silvery eyes watching you behind gold-framed aviators as you chatted with your co-workers, the blaring and beeping arcade lights casting colours against your skin in a way that made the older man suck a breath in through his teeth and click his tongue disapprovingly at himself. William had excellent control over himself both professionally and personally, there were plenty of times where his nature wanted to take hold of the reigns and control his actions but he rarely let them.

You were his little indulgence.

As the type of creature he was, it was hard to control obsessions and indulgences. Where did the lines cross? It had been years since he last let himself slip over the line and it had resulted in some unwanted agreements and commitments, a fact he was constantly reminded of whenever he received a letter from his thankfully former wife demanding reconciliation. She never knew the real him though, and William couldn't ever remember a person beside his best friend and his best friend's wife that had ever seen the real him. Just as he had seen the real them.

But as you turned and glanced at the older man leaning in the doorway into the 'employees only' corridor and gave him a little bright smile like always, he couldn't help his usually stern expression quirking at the corner of his mouth to return the smile slightly. You had that affect on the taller man, even if you were unaware of it or his perhaps less than selfless intentions behind it all.

You'd been working at Freddy Fazbear's pizza for just over two months, and in that time you'd made plenty of friends amongst the various members of staff. The cooks knew your break order and always happened to have an 'accidental' order of your favourite cheesy garlic sticks when you'd had a tough shift, people knew that they could rely on you to cover shifts when sick or that you actually knew where the first aid box was.

In general, people liked you, even if you were keenly aware of your one persistent flaw. You were...naïve, at times, and sometimes jokes and stories flew over your head whilst talking with other staff members. And sure, sometimes you'd had your female co-workers come up to you after some guy had talked to you and walked away looking dejected, only to be told they were flirting with you. But you weren't looking to change those things about yourself necessarily, and nobody ever said it was a bad thing that perhaps somebody who was interested in you would have to try a little harder to grab your attention.

"Afton's staring at you again." Your co-worker tutted, crossing her arms and making you look over towards him despite her hissed protests. Spotting the taller man with greying temples and those thin gold aviators that gave him a much more sophisticated look despite his yellow pin-stripe shirt that was a little baggy on his seemingly broad body. Giving him a friendly smile as he was indeed looking your way, seeing his usual frown twitch slightly as he nodded at you and shoved off from the wall, beginning to wander back into the halls of the pizzeria. "He's such a creep."

"He's not! Mr. Afton's lovely, maybe he's just shy?" You suggested, making the woman in front of you raise her eyebrow sceptically.

"Maybe if he was in high-school, he's a grown ass man, he should say something to you if he wants to say it!"

"Well, he and Mr. Emily do like to stand around and make sure everything is running smoothly. He's probably staring cause we're standing around." Shrugging your shoulders as your colleague shook her head and threw up her hands with an exasperated sigh.

"He's been staring at you for like....a month now? Anybody would think you were being sized up to be eaten or something. Or maybe he wants to fuck you." Wriggling her eyebrows suggestively, you smacked her arm and felt your cheeks heating up as you shook your head.

"Don't be silly! Or rude! Mr. Afton wouldn't think like that towards any of us, we're part of the Fazbear family!"

The young woman looked over at a couple of their co-workers sneaking kisses in the pass, with copious amounts of tongue like teenagers who had just discovered the concept of french-kiss and were delighted with the prospect. Shaking her own head as you wandered off to continue working, not wanting to disappoint your bosses.

"Yeah, perhaps a little more 'incestuous' than you realise though." Muttering under her breath as she trailed behind you, helping with the cleaning chores you both had to complete before the next dinner rush.

Meanwhile, William made his way into the offices at the back and made the man already inside jump slightly at his sudden entrance. His dark, short curls greying slightly and wearing an obnoxiously yellow shirt and brown slacks that made William's stomach turn slightly at how bright his friend was. Henry smiled at him from his desk and turned back to looking at the papers on his desk, allowing William to squeeze past and slip into his desk in the back.

The wooden top was cluttered with sheets of paper in neat stacks and animatronic parts in various spread states of disarray. Afton despised paperwork being out of place, but something that he deemed creative like his animatronics were fine to be in various messy states, art to him was supposed to be chaotic and messy. But his thoughts were distracted by that little smile you'd given him, running his thumb over his index nail repeatedly as he stared at his desk.

Henry noticed his silence and turned around in the swivel chair, facing his friend with a curiously raised eyebrow before scooting closer and forcing William to look up at the sound. Frown on his face as Henry broke out into a grin.

"You went out to look at that employee again didn't you?" Henry teased, making the taller man groan and rub his face under his glasses, jostling them from the comfortable position they had been in and forcing him to adjust them before he glared at Henry.

"None of your fuckin' business."

"Oh you did! And it our business! Do you think you might...pursue?" He asked, leaning on the edge of William's desk, making the other man sigh and shrug his broad shoulders as he averted his eyes back onto the projects on his desk.

"Been a while since I...Think I'm just an old bastard at this point." A slight smirk tugging at his lips as he watched Henry rolling his eyes, a huffing, snorting sound that William recognised as a more annoyed sound.

"Where did all your bravado go? Are you sure your previous wasn't a succubus or something? Sucked all the life out of you."

"Wouldn't that be fucking ironic. Must've been a vampire, drained me dry and not in the nice way either." Henry pulled a face and leaned over to smack William on the shoulder, the firm clap reminding William how strong Henry was despite his more slender frame and growing stomach from his wife's cooking.

Both men sat there for a moment before Henry sighed, running his fingers through his curls and shaking his head to dislodge the soft round ears from ontop of his head. Feeling his face getting slightly more full as his teeth pulled at his gums uncomfortably, blinking up at William who simply blinked back.

"Nearly new moon huh?"

"Yeah, it fucking sucks that I can't really leave the office or the house in case, but that's what I have my best friend and my wife for, huh?"

"Don't let your wife figure out they're separate titles." William chuckled, watching as Henry stretched his jaw and pawed at his face as he tried to encourage his more ursine features back into place.

"No way, I value my life and she will absolutely hand me my ass in silver bullets." Henry laughed and shook his head, looking back onto his own desk and spotting the poster for an upcoming event that made his face light up in an even brighter smile as he turned back to William. "You know what you should do?"

"What?"

"Ask her to the staff Valentine's staff-do!"

"Absolutely fucking not!"

"Come on, why?" He whined and William huffed, curling his lip up to reveal teeth a little too sharp to be human before he cleared his throat and cracked his neck, giving Henry a much more normal smile afterwards.

"It's so stupid, and plus, I need to refresh my skills, that takes time you know."

"Just go with what you've got! In fact, start today! Go out there and get flirting! If you don't have a date to that staff-do, I swear to god William, I'll bite you."

"Can't pass on the ursanthropy to me, Henry. But the thought of you biting me in any form is unpleasant." William sighed and stood up from his desk, watching Henry scooting back to his desk and rolling his eyes as he sighed.

Afton hated things like Valentine's Day, thought about all the overpriced flowers and chocolates that were out and about and the tacky foil decorations that would be used once and then ripped down within a day and never mentioned again. But Henry, annoyingly, was right about the fact that it was an opportune time to ask you out and flex his fingers with the charm a little.

It didn't take him long to find you, carrying piles of flat pizza boxes to make-up for takeout and humming slightly as you headed down the winding corridor, peeking over the top of the stack to see where you were going before a pair of hands reached out and took some of the boxes on the top.

"Let me get some of that for you, sweetheart." He chuckled, easily holding the boxes in his large hands and making you smile appreciatively, adjusting your grip on your own stack and feeling better that you could see where you were going and wouldn't run into anybody.

"Thanks Mr.Afton! I hope this isn't too much trouble." Watching as William shrugged and chewed over his lip, glancing over you briefly.

"It's no trouble, hey! Do you like raisins?" He asked suddenly, making you pause as you mulled over the question.

"I mean...I'm not keen?"

"Then how about a date?" William grinned from ear to ear, watching your expression gleefully as you blinked up at him.

"I mean..I might like them? Haven't tried raisins in years, I might have to try them again. Thanks for helping Mr. Afton!" You smiled, wandering through the corridor and towards the front of the restaurant once again, not aware of the flabbergasted look on her boss' face as he stared after you.

You weren't sure what had changed the next day when you came in for your shift, early as always and humming to yourself when you cleaned up. Henry Emily and William Afton came in through the front door, silence between them as you noticed that Henry had a pair of dark sunglasses on despite the early morning light and William had on a tight black t-shirt and jeans, looking more like a biker with a bit of a dad-bod going on. Blinking in surprise as neither of them were really dressed in the professional attire you were used to them being in.

"Good morning Mr. Emily, Mr. Afton!" You called out, causing both men to stop and turn their attention towards you. Afton looking at you with that stern expression he always had whilst Henry attempted a smile, although it fell quickly and settled back into a slightly pained look, causing your brow to furrow with concern.

"Ah, morning," your name was added quietly onto the end, Henry reaching up and rubbing his hand over his face. Secretly checking himself for any subtle transformations, William glancing at him from the corner of his eye before turning his attention back to you. "How goes set-up?"

"Well Mr. Emily, although...are you okay? You look a little sick and tired today. Maybe you should be at home?" Voice laden with concern and head tilted slightly as you watched Henry, managing to miss William's slight smile at your concern for his friend. Henry shaking his head and shrugging his shoulders lightly.

"Ah, yeah just not been sleeping well. Not sweet enough dreams perhaps." Trying to put some humour back into his voice as William lit up and decided to try out another technique on you, feeling his face settling into a confident smirk once more as he looked you over. Somehow you made even the uniform look cute.

"Not like you, hey sweetheart? You're sweet and a dream." You turned to look at him as the much taller man spoke, the same blank expression on your face for a moment before you laughed and shook your head shyly, averting your gaze from his silvery eyes. Wondering if you had ever been so close to him, other than when he picked up the pizza boxes for you.

"You're too nice Mr. Afton, I really just try to be myself." Shaking your head and not noticing as Henry scowled at William from the side, shaking his own head and rolling his eyes behind the sunglasses. "Well, I better get back to work, please take care of yourself today Mr. Emily, and please look after him Mr. Afton." Giving each of the older men a smile before turning back to your duties and allowing them to move on. Still curious as to why they were dressed less formally.

Henry all but grabbed William and dragged the taller man into the back areas and to their cramped little office. Both men staring down as Henry took off his sunglasses and revealed his more yellowish green eyes, the pupils blown out as he struggled to keep himself full in check as the new moon was only a day away. Holding onto his friend's thick arms for a moment before crossing his against his chest, foot tapping impatiently as he had to look slightly up to see William's face.

"What the actual fuck was that?"

"What was what, Henry?" William asked coyly, smirking as the werebear before him huffed and growled in annoyance. Narrowing his eyes as Henry gestured back out towards the main floor where you were.

"THAT! Was that you flirting?"

"Yeah? Girls love that shit, just cause you get that whole 'mate' thing doesn't mean everybody does buddy." William rolled his eyes and crossed his own thicker arms across his broad chest, staring down at the smaller man as he shook his head. Henry running his fingers through his dark curls for a moment as an exasperated sigh escaped him.

"When did girls like that, the eighteen-hundreds?"

"Watch it, and it was the eighties as you well know."

"Either way, you're an old bastard."

"Shut the fuck up, Emily." William growled, his own teeth changing slightly as his lip curled and revealed sharper canines than before. His own monstrous nature leaking through his carefully held together image before Henry blinked and he was back to normal.

Both men headed off into the offices, Henry still shaking his head and glancing at William with a sense of disbelief. His friend was loosing his touch and honestly, he wasn't sure what he could do to rectify the situation without being blunt and to the point which would entirely ruin William's whole thing.

"You're possibly the world's worst incubus, William Afton." Henry muttered under his breath, making William snort and smirk in return as the office door opened and he allowed his features to shift slightly. Sharp teeth, flatter more squashed nose and nails sharper as greyish brown fur started to creep down the back of his neck and onto his forehead, mixing into where his salt and pepper hair normally was neatly swiped back.

"Says you, I'm just getting started." His features turning back to normal as he shook his head. Cracking his neck and rolling his shoulders as the monster once against became the man.

Your phone buzzed on the bedspread as you sat eating cereal in bed and watching some true-crime programme that had come on when you turned on the TV. Almost missing the soft sound before you reached for it and tapped the screen with your thumb to light it up, pausing as you saw it was a text notification and heart pounding slightly as you saw the name attached to it.

William Afton.

Tapping it open, you wondered if perhaps he was asking you to cover the shift the next day, since you had a couple of days off. Although it was usually Henry who reached out and he never texted, always phoned since it was 'more professional'. He had looked sick earlier, so it wasn't out of the realms of possibility that he was handing over the responsibility to William to try and limit how much stuff Henry himself had to do. You paused as the text loaded after a moment and your eyes instantly landed on a photo of William.

It took you a moment to register. But it looked like it had been taken from around waist height and pointed up his body, his greying hair slicked back and wet like he'd just gotten out of the shower, those gold wire aviators catching the light but still able to see his grey eyes and his greying beard. His broad chest was covered in a tight purple shirt, sleeves rolled up to the elbow, the first three buttons undone and letting you see a touch of his dark chest hair that you somehow never realised you knew would be there.

Confused, you looked at the text that came afterwards, your eyes straying back up to the picture occasionally as you tried to figure out what on earth was going on.

'What do you think to the new shirt?' Still confused, you balanced the bowl of cereal on your lap before texting back, thinking on what to reply as you scanned the picture one more time before your fingers moved across the keyboard.

'It's a nice colour on you Mr. Afton. Did you mean to send this to me though?' Turning back to eating cereal and watching the TV for only a moment before your phone buzzed again and you looked at his name popping up on the screen once more, tapping on it to read as you chewed over your next mouthful.

'Shit, really sorry, this was meant for Henry. Thanks for your feedback though.' You tried for a moment to think how your name might end up next to Henry Emily's in his contacts but didn't think too hard about it, popping another spoonful into your mouth before texting back, wanting to reassure the older man that it was a simple mistake.

'It's no problem, I'm not doing anything at the moment anyway. Was just surprised that you texted me.'

A few minutes passed before your phone vibrated again, and you were welcome to the distraction since the programme had become kind of boring and predictable, it was clear who was the murderer and anything was better than the cliche music and dramatic cuts on the screen.

'Not doing anything? A young lady like you should be out and about! I'm curious as to what type of nothing you're up to now though.' The text made you laugh and shake your head, chuckling as you texted back quickly. You weren't sure what it was about the text exchange with William Afton, but it was enjoyable and you couldn't help the involuntary scroll up in the chain of texts to look at the photo again whilst you waited for his reply after your own.

'Sat in bed, eating cereal and watching TV. Really nothing exciting Mr. Afton. I can imagine your evening is more exciting than mine.'

'Well that rather depends on your definition of exciting. What would you be up to if you didn't have the cereal?' A strange question, but you shrugged and replied in the only way that came to mind. Totally unaware that William Afton was across town and laid in his own bed as soon as you mentioned being in yours, a small smirk on his face with one hand tucked up behind his head as he thought it was genius to potentially lure you into a salacious conversation.

'Get up and get cereal :p'

Your reply left his blinking at his screen and he turned his head to look at the floor length mirror across the room, seeing his more monstrous face staring back at him. Soft bunny ears folded back across his head and covered in a fine layer of salt and pepper fur. His large figure spread out across the bed, his clawed fingers running over his head and flatter face, nose twitching as his now pale purple eyes stared back behind his glasses. The bedding up to his waist hiding most of his transformations, tucking his knees up and curling up his lip to reveal his sharp teeth as his foot stamped in annoyance against the mattress. Crossing his arms around himself in a motion of comfort. The lagomorphic incubus was beginning to doubt his own abilities and he didn't like that.

What was it about you that resisted him so easily? He wasn't entirely sure, but he thought it might have something to do with the fact you had always seemed to have a few things...go over your head, to put it politely. Chewing on his lip as he looked at himself once again in the mirror before he closed his eyes and tapped his head back against the headboard, frustrated that it wasn't going exactly to plan.

Unaware of your boss' frustration, you gave up waiting for him to say something back, glancing at the clock and wondering if perhaps he had simply fallen asleep. But you had a small smile that he had talked to you for so long, and wondered if he had enjoyed the conversation too. Putting the dirty bowl on your nightstand to be cleaned up in the morning and sighing as you settled back into bed.

Scrolling back up, you couldn't help one last look at the picture he had sent, cheeks flushing with heat as you shook your head, tossing the device to one side as you rubbed your face. Wondering what on earth had gotten into you that you kept going back to look at your boss and admire the little features of his face.

#william afton #william afton x reader #springtrap #steve raglan #steve raglan x reader #fnaf movie #springtrap x reader #william afton smut #william afton x you #fnaf x reader #monster au #monster william afton #monster henry emily #incubus

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cazzyf1 · 1 month ago

Text

My favourite quotes from the book 'Mon Ami Mate'

This took me a few months to read this book and I wrote down a lot of quotes so be prepared for a long read - but definitely worth it to learn more about Mike Hawthorn & Peter Collins

"Two years later, the World War Two fighter airfield at Westhampnett became Goodwood racing circuit and, as it was just a few miles south of the Farnham area, the Members (Mike's friend group) soon found their way there. 'Mike would never pay to get in' says McNab, 'He would climb over the fence, scrounge a couple of tickets and then pass them through, so we all got in for free'" - p8

"Nick Harrison remembers a dinner party for ten or a dozen people at The Sally Lunn restaurant in Bagshot when Mike left the table at the end of the evening, climbed out of the toilet window and went home, rather than pay his share of the bill. 'That was typical of him' says Nick, 'Not because he was mean, but because loved to get away with it - it was a sort of challenge for him'" - p8

"Mike and McNab once counted twenty-four pints of light ale disappearing down the Hawthorn gullet during the course of an evening" - p8

"We became great friends, but if he didn't like you he would tread on you and I know people who felt that he was a most unpleasant young man. There was a very dark side to Mike and although he was tremendously popular I would say that twenty per-cent of the people who came into contact with him couldn't stand him" - p9

"Mike found Merridale (his house) a very lonely place, so the McNabs (best friends family) took him under their wing and he stayed with them for some six months. Although clearly upset by his parents separation, Mike never discussed it - even with Neil, whose bedroom he shared. He loved both his parents dearly and refused to allow their break up to alter his feelings towards either" - p9

"Here Peter went underwater swimming, or snorkeling, then a new sport rapidly becoming popular. He hired flippers, helmet and spear-gun and caught many good size fish, which he sold to pay for more swimming lessons" - p18

"He could be a very serious young man, especially where his cars were concerned. He was dedicated to them and if I wasn't out with him some nights he'd go to Ron and Mary's house and talk with them for hours. They were his closest friends and I don't remember Peter ever having a particular man friend at all" - p21

"On the home front, Peter adored his mother and had established good fraternal relations with his sister Trisha (now nine), who naturally hero-worshipped her dashing brother, the racing driver. There was a certain distance, however, between father and son, who were occasionally not on speaking terms" - p21

"Throughout 1951 Mike had raced the Rileys dressed in his everyday clothes, which included a tie. However, if the weather was warm and he wasn't wearing a pullover the tie would flap about in his face, which could be very disconcerting, so he began wearing one of his bow ties for racing" - p33/34

"He was driving into an Italian village at a fair clip when he and co-driver Chips Chipperton spotted a large sign saying 'Adagio', which means 'slowly'. 'Isn't that where the dancing girls come from?' Asked Mike, without lifting his foot, and promptly crashed into a stone bridge" - p39/40

"Mike went to Val d`Isere, in Switzerland, for a skiing holiday with fellow-member Mike Currie. It was not a great success, as first of all Mike got involved in a serious party after a smallpox inoculation, which combined with his alchol intake to lay him out for four or five days. When he was able to stand up again he tried skiing for the first time, only to fall down constantly. He quickly decided that various parts of the lanky Hawthorn frame were liable to snap in this dangerous endeavour and made for the comparative safety of the bar." - p44

"Having learned that his days with a green Ferrari were over he decided to add a dark green, zip-front jacket, or wind cheater, to his racing uniform. "If I can't drive a green car," he told Neil McNab, "at least I can wear a green jacket!" - p47

"The young British driver stood for the British National Anthem with tears of emotion running down his cheeks while the crowd audibly gasped with amazement when he took off his helmet and they saw his obvious youth, after a drive in which he matched every champion on the circuit with courage, speed and racecraft." - p50

"Mike spent the festivities in London with his friends, Pat and Jill Hume-Kendall, who were now the proud parents of a four month old baby boy named Simon. On Christmas morning Pat and Mike took Simon (Mike's godson) to the pub, leaving Jill to prepare lunch. "On their way home, Mike decided to demonstrate a four-wheel drift with the pram and tipped my beautiful baby onto the pavement, scraping his little head" recalls Jill, with a shudder. "I was absolutely furious, of course, and it completely ruined our Christmas lunch"." - p59

"'The night before the rally I went to bed' says Adams 'But Peter was out on the town, chasing girls' (He would chat up the maids at every hotel we went to)" - p75

"Early in 1953 Peter went to live in Paris. 'He went there to escape National Service' says John Wyer. 'There was no argument about that. He talked about it quiet openly later and at dinner one night we had a long argument with Pat Griffith, who had already done his stint. George Abecassis was there too, and he said he had throughly enjoyed his time in the RAF, in spite of spending part of it as a prisoner of war. Peter thought the whole thing was a complete waste of time and asked Pat, 'What good did it ever do you?'" - p81

"Peter also learned to speak French fluently by engaging in intercourse - social and otherwise - with countless pretty Parisiennes!" - p81

"Peter acquired an Alsatian at some stage and if he intended it to be a guard dog it appeared to be an utter failure, welcoming anyone who came to the door with its wagging tail and slobbering chops. Then one day it mistakenly proved it's worth. Peter went out, leaving a plumber and an electrician to do a couple of jobs in the flat. Many hours later he returned, to find them still there and extremely agitated. The Alsatian, which had let them in without a murmur, had refused to let them out once they had finished their work." - p82

"As soon as we arrived Jean Lucas told Mike that someone had called him from England two or three times and left a number. It was the man from Reuters Press Agency and when Mike phoned he asked if he was going to England to see his father. Mike said, 'No. I am going to Le Mans. Why should I go to England?' Then the Reuters man told him that his father had crashed and was badly hurt. Naturally, Mike was in a terrible state, but I took him to Orly and the journalist Bernard Cahier managed to get him a seat on the last plane for London. While we were waiting Mike called the garage at Farnham and was told that his father was dead." - 87

"Romolo Tavoni was present in Ferrari's office one day when he (enzo) was discussing a recent race with Mike. 'Why did you have difficulty in that race?' Asked Ferrari, "My people tell me the car was fine.' 'The gearbox was no good,' said Mike, 'It was impossible for me to change gear properly'. Ferrari (who's cars were always 'fine') flew into a rage. 'You say my gearbox is no good? My gearbox is the best and if you say it is no good a second time, you can leave!' 'Goodbye!' Said Mike, and walked out. Ferrari quickly called him back and all was forgiven. He liked people to stand up for themselves." - p103

'Another who remembers his strong, anti-German feeling is Moi Kenward, one of his few, really serious girlfriends. 'We were upstairs at the 1955 Earls Court Motor Show when someone told Mike that Sir Jeremy Boles was buying a gullwing Mercedes.' She recalled. "He's not buying a fucking German car! Come on - let's get down there" He said, he grabbed me and we hurtled downstairs and there was Sir Jeremy writing out his cheque. Mike stormed onto the stand and said, "what the hell are you buying a bloody Kraut car for? Why don't you buy a Jaguar from me, you silly bastard?" - p103

"For several years, Mike had been troubled by severe pain in his kidneys, which frequently left him feeling very low indeed. He told one or two close friends that when he went to the toilet it was 'like peeing grit' and that often, having started, he couldn't finish the job. The resulting 'off days' did not go un-noticed in the racing world, but Mike kept very quiet about the reason behind them." - p104

"The treatment involved the insertion of a small tube into the abdomen and the restoration of the balance of the fluids going through his kidneys. Visitors such as Bill Cotton and Moi Kenward remember that Mike was "full of tubes" afterwards, and, as Moi recalls, painful though his condition was, he could still see the funny side of it. 'He had a tube up his old man, draining into a bottle, and he told me it was very painful "because every time you walk into the room I get an erection. It's agony!" 'One evening I was asked to wait outside for a few minutes while the doctors examined him. They cane out roaring with laughter and Mike said, "I told them what the problem was and they're going to take it out tomorrow." - p104

"Mike was never short of visitors and Moi was one of the most frequent. 'I had long hair in those days and Mike would spend hours brushing it while I sat beside his bed. That was the very gentle side of him few people saw.' Others went not to have their hair brushed, but to have their whistles whetted, although not when Mike's mother was present. Malcolm Richardson and some friends turned up one day and when Mrs H discovered that their raincoat pockets were crammed with bottles of beer she threw them all out." - p104

"The first thing I saw Mike Hawthorn running around, white-faced and absolutely distracted. He was alone, running through the caravans behind the pits. Just running around. He must have just got out of his car" - p127

"As this was sinking in, a Jaguar mechanic appeared and asked Lance to go to the Jaguar pits and talk to Mike 'he's having hysterics and says it's all his fault...he says He's never going to race again' Macklin refused 'because he bloody nearly killed me too, and, I'm not feeling all that happy towards him'. A few minutes later, Mike appeared 'He was tottering. He stood behind me at the table, put his arms on my shoulder and said, 'Oh my God, Lance. I'm terribly sorry. I bloody near killed you and I killed all those people. I'm really sorry. I'm certainly never going to race again.' My anger evaporated, Macklin recalled" - p127

'Rob's memory of Mike's arrival is still vivid. "His first words - and I'll never forget them - were, 'it's all my fault! It was all my fault! I wanted to get into the pits before Fangio came by"' - p127

'Mike returned to England and appeared on the BBC-TV to talk about the disaster with Rudolf Uhlenhaut of Daimler-Benz. The telecast was an unhappy experience for Mike, as Moi Kenward recalls. "He had to face the music. He came round to my flat afterwards and he really was in a terrible state - he was in floods of tears"' - p131

'The weather was fantastic for Aintree, sunny and extremely hot, and I began to feel the effects, so In handed the car over to Castellotti.' wrote Mike later. This is certainly true, but as is often the case with Mike's books, it is not the whole truth, which was that Mike was suffering from a giant hangover! The previous evening he had had a blazing row with Moi Kenward, after which he became drunk as a skunk, leaving him in no state to do any serious motor racing the next day. The row continued after the race, with the result that a furious Moi went out to dinner that evening with Eugenio Castellotti. This did nothing to ease a very jealous Mike's hangover.' - p132

'Recollections of what followed are obscured by a heavy, alcoholic haze, but at some point in the proceedings, Peter Collins, Roy Salvadori and Pat Griffith were seen rolling Rob Walker down 46th Street in a large, wire litter basket' - p138

'About an hour out of Paris we were stopped by a very nice gendarme, who asked us to please drive slowly through his village. Peter pretended he couldn't speak French and the guy was very polite and let us go, but as we drove away, Peter said' "Tous les flics mangent le merde!" (All cops eat shit) when we got to the next village I thought we were going right into clink! Our nice gendarme had obviously phoned ahead and his pals were waiting for us. Peter thought it was a hellava lot of fun - until they hit us for abour fifty bucks. He was a bit subdued for a while after that'- p139

'We(Pat Griffith & Peter Collins) slid off the road and down the mountainside for about fifty feet and I ended up in Peter's lap. "Pat" he said, "I never knew you cared!"' - p140

"Ol' Pete had a very genteel streak in him and would go out of his way to be friends with the new members of the team" - p141

"John Wyer had given us strict instructions not to dice with each other and whatever order we were in at the end of the first lap was to be maintained. I made a better start than Pete, but within a couple of laps he was right with me and we had a most God-almighty dice. All round the circuit we were passing and repassing, pushing each other through the corners and having a wonderful time. Peter was laughing and waving at me, (giving me two fingers, that is!) and we were really going terribly quickly but we always got our positions right as we went past the pits, with me in the lead.Then I lost it coming out of Arnage. I spun right round, Peter went past and from then on he had every right to stay in front. He could have told John that I had spun and said, 'What was I supposed to do wait for him?' But that's exactly what he did he gave me two fingers and let me go by again. He never mentioned it to John and neither did I, because that was exactly the kind of thing he was trying to avoid my spin could have involved Pete and we could have lost both cars. That was how nice a guy he was." - p152

"Peter took his Governorship very seriously and visited us several times that year. He liked to wander round the classrooms, chat to the kids and look at their work. They were all between the ages of five and thirteen, so although they knew he was famous they didn't really know much about him, but he was so charming and interested in what they were doing that they really warmed to him and looked forward to his visits. And he so obviously enjoyed coming down and being associated with something so different from his normal life. Unfortunately for us, he joined Ferrari in 1956 and from then in we saw very little of him, as he was seldom in this country, but he remained a great of friend of the school and myself. I often sought his advice, as he was a well-travelled young man and very intelligent, helpful and loyal." - p153

"Being a great party man and a wow with the ladies, Peter could very easily have made Brooks feel uncomfortable. Instead, he took a rather surprising attitude towards him. In those days we always had a small party the night before a race and when, on the evening before the Nine Hours, Tony said he was going to have an early night, much to everyone's surprise Peter said, 'Right - my man Brooks is going to bed and so am I.' He sunk his last half pint and off he went. That sort of thing happened on more than one occasion" - p155

"He was utterly charming and when I told him that I had to get back to work he said, 'Come back tomorrow, it won't be so busy then.' So I did and despite our age difference and the fact that he was a famous racing driver and I was a trainee salesman we struck up a good - friendship. That year many races were cancelled after Le Mans, so he was often at home and we used to meet frequently, until at the end of the year I had to go off and do my National Service. On my last night at The Black Boy (a pub) he bought me one hundred Players cigarettes and said, 'Keep in touch and come and see me at the meetings when you can get away.' Luckily, I was able to get to quite a few in the next two years and whenever he was there he would invite me into his crowd saying, 'This is my young mate, Trevor, from Kidderminster. He's in the RAF, poor bastard!' Peter never changed" - p161

"Although there was a nine-year age difference, Peter and I were always very close. He was a really terrific older brother and such a happy person, always laughing and joking. Needless to say, I hero-worshipped him and, with Mummy and Daddy, took a great interest in his career which seemed to dominate our conversations at every meal. He still didn't get on with Daddy and Wherever he came home I would say, 'How long are you here for?' and he'd say, 'It depends on the old man.' Ifthings went wrong Peter would high-tail it back to London and stay with Vick Vickers at the Washington Hotel." P161-162

"I remember once when Stirling stayed the night he left his shoes outside his bedroom door to be cleaned! My schoolfriend Sue Pridmore was staying with me and we were so incensed we filled them with sand" - Peter's sister, p162

"I was an unwilling boarder at Malvern Girls College. It was a very strict school and we were not allowed out-even with family - unless prior permission had been granted. This didn't bother Peter, who arrived one day with Stirling, sweeping to a halt in front of the school with a great swirl and flourish of loose chippings on the drive. When I told my housemistress that my brother and Stirling Moss had come to take me home for lunch she immediately phoned my parents, not knowing Peter or Stirling from Adam. "Is this young man your son?" she demanded. 'And circle who is this Stirling Moss person? Are we to release your daughter in their care?" "Mummy managed to convince her that Peter was indeed my brother and as we left he took my school hat inter off my head and in front of this very self-important pudding, plonked it on his own. Her face as we walked out.......As soon as we had gone she called my mother Berm again and said, 'I don't want those two young men to bring your daughter back, I don't like the way they behave at all." - p162

"Mike and Duncan soon found ways of keeping themselves amused.

One day they were in the lobby of the Waldorf Astoria Hotel when a member of a visiting ladies convention saw a man in a blazer and decided that he must be an attendant. "Boy! Where's our convention?" she demanded.

The 'boy' was Mike, and he was naturally unable to answer her question, whereupon the lady was very rude to him. Instead of telling her 'where to go', Mike told her where to go. "Try the eleventh floor, M'am" he said politely.

It then dawned upon the Englishmen that they had a good thing going here and in the following fifteen minutes they directed numerous ladies to the eleventh floor before taking the lift there themselves for a look- see. To their huge delight they found that things were going magnificently awry, for their ladies had walked into the middle of an all-male convention. Not all the ladies were there to attend the same ladies' convention, so the confusion was total. After a gleeful appraisal of their handiwork, Mike and Duncan walked innocently away." - p164

"Watching the race from above the BRM pits was his old schoolfriend, Bill Cotton who saw - and heard - Mike's reaction. "He threw his crash-hat across the pit and said, 'If I want to commit suicide I'll do it without your help, thank you very much indeed!' He then stormed out and went straight to the beer tent in the Paddock, where I joined him. 'That whole fucking car is an absolute time bomb!' He told me. He was livid!"" - p171

"The tyre problem clearly played on Peter's mind, as Ken Gregory remembers - "Peter and I shared a room at the Palace Hotel in Milan and two or three times during the night before the race I was woken up by his voice crying out 'The tyres! The tyres!!' As he thrashed unhappily through a nightmare. Just what mental torture he was going through at the time, I don't know, neither could he remember in the morning but, like the test of the Ferrari drivers, he was obviously terribly worried about tyre position'" - p194

'At the end of the 34th lap there occurred the most stirring things in this most exciting of races for many, many years. Peter Collins, lying in third place, came into the pits for a tyre inspection, and voluntarily handed over his car to Fangio - thereby giving up any possible chance he might have had of winning the World Championship. It was a truly generous action, and one which gives the lie to the cut-throat tactics which one or two people have alleged against motor racing.' - p195

'Despite this, Juan Manuel Fangio won the World Championship for the fourth time, thanks to the generosity of Peter Collins. "I was astonished when he handed over the car," he said afterwards, "but I did not stop to argue. In fact, Peter pushed me into it, although he still had a great chance to win the Championship himself at the time. I know how much that renunciation meant to him. This is one of the things that make a friendship really great. I do not know whether in his place I would have done the same. Collins was the gentleman driver.' - p195

'"It's too early for me to become World Champion - I'm too young." Was the 25 year old's reply, "I want to to on enjoying life and racing, but if I become World Champion now I would have all the obligations that come with it. And Fangio deserves it anyway!" - p195

'He told me, "If I'm good enough I'm automatically going to be number one, so I want to learn to be good enough," which I thought was a beautiful attitude," - p195

"Peter just loved to race," says Ken Gregory, "He did it for the sheer enjoyment it brought him. I don't think he was too concerned with money because he wasn't a big spender - he was very casual with it, really and didn't need an awful lot. He was a very popular character and was always being invited here, there and everywhere. He wasn't extravagant, he wasn't flash with cars - he had a Ford Zephyr and then I arranged for him to have one of the new Sunbeam Rapiers - and he didn't have a palatial residence anywhere. Money was not high on his list of priorities," - p197

'Peter....interestingly, he was certainly the most friendly of the three and probably the best personality, there was an absolute warmth just emanating from him. At the same time he was absolutely impossible where appointments were concerned. If you made a commitment for him you had your heart in your mouth, not knowing whether he would turn up - and frequently he didn't. On the other hand, he also had the ability to smooth ruffled feathers immediately with his charm, which was overwhelming.' - p198

"I was in the foyer, talking with Peter, who had just come back from Modena." Recalls Sir David, "Mike Hawthorn appeared with a beautiful girl on his arm and Peter rushed up to him and said, 'Mike - you must get on a plane and go to Modena. Ferrari wants another driver and you can be the captain of the team." Quite why Peter should offer Mike the 'captiancy' when he had already been given the position is hard to fathom. Nonetheless, Mike was on the phone to Modena the next day and on the following Monday he flew to Italt to talk with Enzo Ferrari. That brief conversation in the foyer of the Leicester Square Theater proved to be the starting point for the great friendship that grew up between Mike and Peter, a friendship that was soon to be adorned with the phrase, 'Mon Ami Mate." - p198

"It was while making his way there with Umberto Maglioli that he heard of his father's fatal car crash. Two days later, Basil Cardew ran a front-page story in The Daily Express revealing how - just hours before the crash - Leslie Hawthorn had spoken to him in the Goodwood Paddock and blamed himself for all of Mike's National Service troubles. "Will you help me about Mike?" He asked Cardew. "The boy is miserable and we have got to settle this call up trouble. Will you write an article in The Daily Express and let people know the whole story?" "Blame me for the mess," he went on, "I advised Mike all along from the time he was sixteen. The boy was always keen to do his National Service, but I have spent my life in racing - motorcycles in the TT and sports car races - and I thought his future lay in that direction, rather than driving lorries for the Army." - p203

"He used to come and stay with my family at Biella frequently," adds Maglioli, "He didn't go home to England because he didn't want to have to give up racing for two years and join the Army. He didn't like living on his own in Modena, so he came to us," - p204

"Mike put up with Italy because he had to in order to avoid the call up, but he badly missed his parents, the Members and the pubs. On his rare visits home he would make a bee-line for the Duke of Cambridge. "There's nothing like the green grass of England!" He would exclaim to Charlie and Marjorie Bishop as he supped his first of many pints for months, and for which he seldom, if ever, paid." - p204

"Peter's lifestyle and attitudes were somewhere in between those of Moss and Hawthorn. He loved parties and girls but was no great drinker, preferring wine with a meal (like moss) rather than downing great quantities of beer in a pub (like hawthorn)" - p211

"Mike was never his teammate (fangio) and they had no common language, so their friendship was very much at arms length, but the Englishman clearly thought the world of him and they enjoyed some unforgettable duels. Peter, on the other hand, had established a very strong rapport with him during their season together at Ferrari in 1956. By that time Fangio had a smattering of French (which Peter spoke fluently) and Peter was quick to learn some Spanish, so a genuine friendship grew up between them, one that was set in stone by the younger man's selfless behaviour in the Italian GP. And, along with everyone else, Juan Manuel came under the Collins spell and held him isn the same sort of paternal esteem as did Enzo Ferrari," - p216

"Stirling Moss had been writing for us (writing car reviews for the Sunday express) and when he left it was Harold Keeble, the Editor, who suggested that Mike should take his place. Mike agreed, with one stipulation - he had to have a slap-up meal with every test. I think his fee was £20 a week - a pittance! We used to pick up the test car at the Express building in Fleet Street and drive to Silverstone, occasionally putting in the report how long it took us to get there - fifty-seven minutes or thereabouts in a quick motor. Often we'd stop for lunch first, usually at The Bell at Aston Clinton, which was a very fine place to eat. We always started with oysters, caviar or snails (Mike was passionately fond of snails - the car used to reek of garlic afterwards), and we always had a bottle of Clos de Vougeot, a very fine wine. After lunch we'd go to Silverstone and belt the car round and then, as often as not we would sit and watch the Circuit Manager, Jimmy Brown, do a few laps in it. In the spring, Geoff Duke would often be there testing his motorbike and sometimes Mike would have a go. He would go crazy about motorbikes and would belt round with no leathers or helmet - no protection at all! In the summer, when we got bored with Silverstone we'd go to the seaside - always somewhere with a Big Dipper. Mike loved Big Dippers. He never knew what was in his Road Tests until he read the article, and next time we'd meet he'd say, 'That was a bloody silly thing I wrote last week, wasn't it?'" - p222

"Mike Hawthorn accompanied his great friend's beautiful, grieving widow back to England. At London Airport he bravely faced the Press and TV cameras and gave his eye-witness account of the crash, the tears running down his face, as The Daily Mail recorded.

"There was a little dip." he said, "We went into that. There was a sharp, short right-hand bend and Peter took it a little too wide and didn't turn into it soon enough. His car hit the bank and turned over. I don't know how fast he was driving. There was just a bunch of us. Tony Brooks was in front. Peter was second. As a driver he was the best, definitely. As a friend....he was my best friend, and that is it."

The Daily Express quoted him as saying, 'Pete and I raced as a team..... We were both chasing Tony Brooks, the eventual winner, and that was fair enough. The idea was to catch Tony and try to blow him up. But we were not racing against each other. I was just waiting behind Pete as he touched the bank."

'Hawthorn could hardly speak. He was asked, "Will you race again?" "If Ferrari wants me to I will. I am due to race in the Portuguese GP in two weeks, but personally I am not very interested." 'Massive, fair-haired Hawthorn crammed a handkerchief against his mouth. "Damn silly of me." he said, "So sorry...."

'He walked blindly along the corridor, took Louise Collins by the hand and drove away.'" - p227-228

Mike described the first part of the trip briefly in Challenge Me The Race:

We landed at Toussus le Noble, got a taxi into Paris, which cost about £3, and stayed the night with some friends. It was a late night as sometimes happens in Paris and we were late getting up next morning."

Well, yes and then again, no; for while this approximates the truth is far from being the whole truth, which is much more entertaining. Neil McNab spills the beans:

"Before we left I was severely lectured by Raymond Mays to the effect that on no account was Mike to be let loose in Paris, as BRM wanted him to be in condition to drive at Monaco. We landed near Paris and grabbed a cab to Fred Payne's bar in Rue Pigalle, where we immediately got stuck into champagne. "In those days, half-bottles of bubbly were about ten bob each and we got through an astronomical number. Fred's place was next to a brothel and there were always several tarts in the bar, having a drink and looking for business. The more we drank the better-looking they became and we got very pissed, eventually going next door with two of the girls, who were by now looking very good indeed. "A while later, Mike suddenly appeared in my room stark naked and said, 'I'm getting bloody bored with mine. Why don't we go and see what else is going on? We might find some better-looking girls than ours.' "We were both very big blokes and pretty fit, so we went into some of the other rooms to see if we were missing out on any good crumpet. We'd just lift the bloke off his tart, have a good look at her and drop him back on again. What a furore that started!" A furore, indeed. The brothel was full of Algerian workers out for a night of horizontal dancing and they were not amused at having their coitus so rudely interruptus by the two giant Englishmen, who were naked, rampant and not a pretty sight! There was, as the saying goes, uproar in the house, and Hawthorn and McNab were lucky to escape with all their bits and pieces still attached." - p229

"Because Rouen was a road circuit, practice started at 6 am and was over by 8, leaving the drivers with the rest of the day free. I had joined up with Peter and Louise and Mike suggested that we all go to Deauville, so we piled into the Gull, had a delicious lunch, wandered about a bit and then flew back. As we came towards Rouen Mike was chatting away merrily and I thought we were approaching the runway rather too fast for comfort. At the very last minute he suddenly zoomed up and away and did another circuit, roaring with laughter. 'This air speed indicator of mine is absolutely up the creek!' he said, 'I must try again." - p230

"Terrifying!" he recalls emphatically. "He (Mike) wasn't the greatest map reader in the world and he used to follow railway lines to where we were going. Once we set off for Le Mans and when we got to Salisbury he realised we'd followed the wrong line out of Woking! He was definitely a 'seat of the pants' flyer. He was a good pilot in that he had a feeling for the thing, but there was very little theory involved in his navigation."

When Mike joined Peter at Ferrari in 1957 he asked Ken Gregory to look after some of his racing interests where they blended with Peter's. When they were in England, the Scuderia would cable Ken's office and ask for one or both to go to Modena for some testing. Ron Smith recalls:

"I'd phone Pete in Kidderminster to tell him that he was wanted in Modena on Tuesday, or whenever, but he'd say,

'Oh, we're going to be on the boat in Dartmouth. Give is Mike a ring.'

"So I'd call Mike in Farnham and he would say, 'What's Pete doing?'

""He's on his boat.'"

"Well, what's Taffy doing?"

"I don't know what von Trips is doing. Ferrari has asked for one of you.'

"Eventually, one or both of them would set off in

Mike's Vega Gull and, as likely as not, after a couple of hours I'd get a phone call.

""We've had to jack it in at Lydd, Ron. Can you get us on a flight from London?'"

So much for navigation. And Neil McNab says that - having retired from the circuits, Mike was planning to take up air racing. The mind boggles........." - p230

"During 1956, Peter's personal transport was a Ford Zephyr, which sported a bumper sticker proclaiming, I LIKE GIRLS!". If nothing else, this should ensure Mr Collins a place in the Guinness Book of Records, under the heading, 'Great Understatements of our Time.'

Peter and Mike simply loved the company of ladies and pursued them constantly, with vigour and lustful intent. Both men had a great deal going for them in this endeavour, being undeniably handsome, charming and charismatic to a degree. Mike was 6ft 2ins, so blond he was almost albino and possessed of a 'bowl-`em-into- bed' smile which seems to have been inherited by Jack Nicholson. For his part Peter was slight, straw-blond and so full of devastating charm it should have been illegal. Just as important is the fact that they were blessed with the gift of laughter and doubtless tumbled many a lass, giggling, between the sheets" - p241

"Before he joined Ferrari, Mike shared a flat in Chelsea with his newly-married friends, Pat and Jill Hume- Kendall. "He had a room which must have been a larder, or something, originally, because it had no widow." recalls Jill. "He called it Little Hell and it saw a lot of action - he used to bring different girls back there all the time. When we moved to Neville Terrace in the summer of 1953, Mike would often stay with us when he was in England and by then our son had arrived. I was always trying to keep his hands off my au pairs - that was my prime occupation when he was around! He also had affairs with most of my friends, the unmarried ones anyway." - p241/242

"It was at the end of that year the Mike met the first of his serious girlfriends, Moi Kenward. "I was working for Michelin Tyres at the Earls Court Motor Show and one of the reps who knew Mike brought him onto the stand for a drink. I'd just finished my stint and was about to leave when he said, 'Where are you going?' I told him I was going home and he said, 'No, you're not you're going to come and have a drink with me.' No invitation - just an order! "We went back to my flat, where I changed. He made no attempt at a pass and then we went to a sherry bar near the Michelin Building in the Fulham Road. It was all terribly innocent and I didn't go to bed with Mike for a very long time, which surprised him. Eventually, he took me to see a French film, The Ripening Seed', which did the trick and he always used to tease me afterwards. I had to take you to a sexy French film before you would go to bed with me!' I remember nothing about the film, but I do remember that Mike bought tickets for the cheapest seats in the house and immediately marched me up to the most expensive ones! That was so typical of him." - p241

"At the end of 1954 he won the Spanish Grand Prix at Barcelona. I was terribly broke and living in a little flat in Earls Court. On the evening of the race I listened to the radio on the news and heard that he had won. I was so excited, but then I thought, I wonder if I heard correctly?' so I had to wait for the next news bulletin. My radio was plugged into the mains as were the lights and I had to put shillings in the meter. I was so short of money I turned out the lights and read a book by candle- light, to make sure I had enough electricity for the radio.

"Gregor Grant of Autosport told me that Mike didn't go to the post-race party as he was so anxious to fly back to me. He brought me a beautiful belt, which I still have. He was extremely generous in this respect and was always bringing me scarves and belts and things and later when he went off to a race he would as likely as not put £100 in my bank account before he left, which was a ■lot of money in those days."- p241

"On the other hand, he was incredibly jealous. When he was in hospital with his kidney problems I visited him constantly and whenever I popped out to the loo he would empty my handbag onto his bed and go through the contents. He had a key to my flat and I'd often find that he'd been through my chest of drawers and everything to see if I'd had a letter from some other man. He often said, 'If anyone else goes out with you I'll bloody well kill him!' and we weren't even engaged! And he would never introduce me to any of the other drivers because he was so jealous" - p242

"Robert Glenton (Mike's friend and ghost-writer on The Sunday Express) recalls that he was completely smitten by Cherry. "He seemed to take girls or leave them until she came along, but he lost a lot of sleep over her - he really became moon-struck. Cherry was Mike's great love. He really wanted to marry her and when Mike wanted something really badly he went at it like a bull at a gate. We were in the Steering Wheel Club at about 10 o'clock one night when he heard that she was going out with Peter Twiss, the test pilot whom she later married. I dropped him off at her mews flat and according to Cherry he broke the door down and they had a stand-up row. Mike was impossible and I can't imagine any girl being married to him - he was so overwhelming. When he fell in love he wore his heart on his sleeve." - p244

"He certainly had a million girlfriends when I knew him." says Cherry. "He was not what I would call the world's most faithful boyfriend and that must be putting it mildly. It was pretty heartbreaking at the time. Yet he was very puritan in many ways; he was a good, middle- class boy and he didn't really like too much hanky- panky. I remember him telling me that he and Fon de Portago once went out with two beautiful girls and just when Mike was wondering which of them was going to be his for the night, Fon announced that they were not going to participate, they were going to watch! Michael was not at all impressed.

"All men who have a lot of women are, basically, men's men. Michael loved his men friends and he loved going to the pub with the boys. He liked women for the other things they could give him, but he loved the company of men. He tried to be very sophisticated about women and was quite incapable of being faithful to any one of them. Even so, I am very pleased that I had my relationship with him when I did, when I was young and impressionable. I knew him at the height of his glamour and that was lovely. He was a golden star of a man." - p244

"The young drivers in question were, of course, Peter and Lance Macklin and HWM's Chief Mechanic, Frank Webb, recalls that, "Their first aim at every practice was to compare notes after a few laps - not on how the car was going, but what the birds were like on every corner. Once they had formed some sort of consensus, the chosen ones were in our pit within a quarter of an hour and from then on we didn't see a lot of them......." - p244

"Roy Salvadori, however, is more generous in his appraisal of Peter's lady friends. "They weren't terrible looking at all. He had one or two crackers, but more often than not they were unusual - attractive in a weird way. And it was never the same girl twiice running. He was a very attractive and popular guy - it wasn't that difficult to date Peter!" - p245

"I saw Collins with the girl in the passenger seat! I got him in the morning and said, 'How did you get on?' ""Fine,' he said. 'she was inexperienced but enthusiastic. We started off on the bed and finished up in the wardrobe!'- p245

"Tears don't come easy to Eleanora Herrera, 21 year- old heiress and member of one of Argentina's grandest families.' 'wrote Peter Hahn in The Daily Mirror 'But her eyes were brimming when she told me: PETER COLLINS JILTED ME." - p245

"Immediately after the wedding, Peter denied that he had jilted Eleanora, as she had claimed. 'The report is ridiculous.' he told the Daily Sketch. 'I was engaged to her but we decided to break it off. Our engagement was never made public. Neither was the break-off. I couldn't be more sorry Eleanora is so distressed, but its entirely wrong to say I jilted her. I can't believe she misunderstood me' - p246

"Mike's inability to pass by a pretty face got him into trouble on occasion, too. His friend Nick Syrett recalls one such incident.

"We'd been to the presentation of the Ferodo Trophy at the Dorchester Hotel in Mayfair and had arranged to meet a couple of girls at The Steering Wheel Club at 8 o'clock. By the time we left the Dorchester it was 8-50, so we set off down Park Lane on foot and where the Hilton Hotel now stands was then a gathering place for ladies of the night. We noticed one in particular who was absolutely astonishingly beautiful and as we walked by she said, 'Hallo darling - want to come home with me?'

"This, of course, was irresistible to Mike! I tried to get him to move on as we were now almost an hour late for our date, but he was having none of it and protracted negotiations began. The girl wanted £4 (then the going rate) for her services and Mike - tight-fisted as ever - tried to beat her down to £3. After a lot of haggling the deal was abandoned and we finally made it to The Steering Wheel, where our ladies gave us a pretty frosty reception, having been kept waiting so long.

"We had a couple of drinks and then walked back to the Dorchester to collect the car and go on somewhere for dinner. The aforementioned lady was still on her patch and as we approached she looked Mike's girl up and down, then looked at Mike and said, 'See what you get for three quid!'

"The temperature between Mike and his girlfriend was already pretty chilly, due to our lateness and it now became very frosty indeed as she demanded to know the meaning of that remark. Mike tried to laugh it off, but by the time we reached the restaurant the temperature was well below zero and I insisted that our table for four was changed to two tables for two! Throughout the meal Mike was making frantic 'help me!' signs, but I just let him get on with it. My date and I eventually joined him and his friend for coffee." - p246/247

"Mike's last serious romance began in the Spring of 1958, when he started going out with 21 year-old Jean Howarth, one of London's top fashion models who worked for Hardy Aimes and John Cavanagh, among others. "I'd known Mike on and off for a while," she recalls, "because I had a boyfriend who lived in Farnham and we used to meet Mike in the local pubs. Our relationship started to get serious at the Goodwood Easter Monday meeting. "Behind the scenes with his mask off he was a very nice, quiet, loving homebody. He wanted to marry, settle down and have a home and children of his own and he was emphatic that he was not going to be a married racing driver - that would not be fair on the girl, who was going to be me. When he wasn't racing he liked to get up late on a Sunday morning, go to the pub for a few drinks and then come home for Sunday lunch. Afterwards he would put his feet up in front of the fire and watch the telly." - p247

"He was a very sensitive man and could cry easily. He was shattered by Peter's death and that made up his mind to retire at the end of the season. But smaller tragedies upset him too. He had a boxer dog called Grogger and one day during the 1958 Motor Show (or just after) we were having a drink with some friends at the Barley Mow at Tilford when Mike gave someone a run in his Ferrari demonstrator, leaving Grogger with us. When he heard the car coming back, Grogger ran in front of it and was killed. Mike was very upset about that and cried a lot." - p247

"Mike had proposed to Jean while they were driving from London to Farnham in his Jaguar.

"He asked me to marry him and, of course, I said, 'Yes!' says Jean, remembering that joyful moment with absolute clarity. With equal clarity she recalls how Mike - always the great romantic - then lobbed a king-sized rock into his new fiancée's placid pool of happiness.

"Now tell me." he said, "Do you have any skeletons in your cupboard?"

"No." said Jean, puzzled, "Why?"

"Because I do. I have a four year-old son in France." - p247

"He (Mike's son Arnaud) had fleeting memories of meeting him (Mike) on a couple of occasions, and of meeting Mrs Hawthorn not long after Mike was killed - but her interest in her grandson did not, it seems, last very long. Arnaud had not heard from her since he was a small boy and did not know if she was still alive. I was able to tell him that she was, but would not talk to anyone about her son, let alone her grandson." - p252

"It must be said that the fact that the Tennis Club was (and still is) private does not mean that Mike would have needed an invitation. He might have required one, but needed it....? No. As his old drinking buddies, the Members, well recall, Mike was adept at inviting himself to parties. If he saw some pretty girls through a window and heard the sound of clinking glasses, he was quite capable of walking in off the street and joining in the fun, his tremendous charm and that dazzling smile obviating the need for the formality of an invitation. It is quite possible that he was invited to the soirée, but he was for a few more days, anyway - completely unknown to the average citizen of Reims and so hardly likely to be there as a celebrity." - p253

"Jacqueline was enormously attracted to Mike at once, and vice versa." says Monique. "They spent every single moment together and Mike invited us both to be his guests at the race on the following Sunday. We told him that we were already going, with our father, so we agreed to meet afterwards. Of course, we had not the slightest idea that he would win. When we got home from the Tennis Club Jacqueline was terribly excited about Mike and talked about him non-stop." - p253

"By this time Cherry Huggins was Mike's girlfriend. She had recently learned to fly and Mike asked her to bring his Fairchild Argus over to Reims for him, which she did. 'I remember that there was a lady about who had Mike's son.' She recalls, 'I thought it was very irresponsible of him and I gave him hell about it. By that time he certainly had some pretty strong paternal feelings towards the boy,'" - p255

"From 1956 he visited Jacqueline every time he raced in Reims. Arnaud remembers seeing his father briefly in his aunt's house behind the cathedral. "My mother wanted me to be there to say hallo, but I refused at first as I was busy playing with my toy cars. I also recall meeting Mike at the circuit behind the pits, probably in 1958, and my mother told me that we went to England once to see him. We had a ride in his Jaguar, but I don't remember anything about that." - p255

"Stirling Moss suggested that as he was going to Miami, he should look up an actress of his acquaintance while he was there.

"I had met Louise with Donald Healey during the Nassau Speed Week the previous December." says Stirling. "She was a very beautiful girl and great fun, so I told Peter he could find her at the Playhouse."

On Monday, February 4, Peter duly called Louise and arranged to meet her that evening in the bar after the show. Little did Stirling know that he was playing Cupid in what was about to become a great romance! Naturally, Louise recalls that meeting as if it were yesterday.

"When I walked into the bar, Peter was already there and talking to Bob Said, whom we both knew. He obviously thought that Peter and I knew each other, too, because no introductions were made. We had a drink and then Bob suggested we all go out to dinner, but Peter said he couldn't leave yet, as he had to meet someone. I found this puzzling, as I thought he was there to meet me. 'Who are you meeting?' I asked.

""Louise King.' he said.

""You're crazy - I'm Louise!'

'We got over that and went out to dinner.' The following Wednesday afternoon I went to the motel where Peter and Mastern were staying and we were all sitting by the pool - Masten on my right and Peter on my left - when Peter asked me to marry him! I said 'yes' and we made plans in a couple of minutes of whispering and Masten never heard a thing.'- p260

"On Tuesday morning, Masten was in Kansas driving to his bowling alley, when he heard on the car radio that Peter Collins had got married. He thought that was a hoot - Peter had been out with me the previous week and now had obviously married someone else. He was furious when he learned that he'd been right there when Peter proposed" - p261

"As events turned out," says Gregory, "he was absolutely right. The marriage was a very good thing and Louise was a great influence on him in many ways. She was of a similar temperament and personality, free as the wind, full of fun and a very good-looking girl! I think she had a sensuous aura which attracted Peter - she was a very compatible and equal force and together they formed an even better force." - p261

"Their marriage in Miami was a joyous occasion, but for Peter it was marred by the stoney silence that emanated from his home. It was very clear from that dreadful transatlantic phone call that his parents (and his father in particular) were very unhappy about the union, but naturally, Peter had hoped for a congratulatory cable, at least, on his big day, It never came" - p264

"For the first time in my life I am able to realize what it means to really have someone for whom I have so much love, respect and tenderness that I'm afraid of things that may in any way spoil the happiness that we have found together.

I know that when you both meet Louise you will realize that she is not only a wonderful person but also so obviously right for me and I for her and I am sure you will both come to love her, not as much as I do because I don't think that is possible, but as a new and very fine member of our family." (Peter Collins letter to his parents) - p264

"I would like to say now that there is nothing more in this world that I would have rather had at our wedding than you and Mum but, well, I only wish I could put into words how much Louise means to me and now, after one week together even more so, if that is possible." (Peter Collins letter to his parents) - p265

'Just two months later, Stirling announced his engagement to Katie Molson, saying, "Of course I realise this is a foolish time to get engaged because Peter Collins has just got married and released a flood of crumpet onto the market and now I can't do anything about it!" - p266

'The Caribbean island was in ferment, as Fidel Castro was leading his rebel forces against the government and causing all kinds of trouble, so the Principal drivers Fangio, Moss, Collins and Castellotti - were all assigned heavily-armed bodyguards, Castellotti being informed that they were to keep the women away.... Peter and Stirling shared the attentions of an amiable giant named Chico, whose English was as fluent as their Spanish. On their first night in Havana, they managed to give him the slip and went to a boxing match. They had just taken their seats when a number of Castro's friends began firing their guns into the roof and in the ensuing panic several people were crushed to death. Moss and Collins made it to safety and were glad of Chico's company from then on' - p266

'At that time Tavoni had been working as Enzo Ferrari's personal assistant for seven years, so Ferrari had absolute trust in him and this more than made up for his complete lack of any racing experience.

He also lacked a proper knowledge of English, which was, of course, the lingua franca of motor racing. Mike Hawthorn welcomed his old friend to Sebring and decided to help him out.

"Mike said, 'Romolo, you must learn English with me, listen - Rosie, Posie, Pinkey, Pink, Shitty, Farty, Poopie, Stink. Repeat, Romolo!'

"So I repeat and he said, 'Good, now you explain to this gentleman's wife.' But Phil Hill was there and he said, 'No, no, stop Ferma!' It was the wife of Mr Alec Ullmann, the head man of Sebring!"

Just one of Hawthorn's little jokes......' - p267

'Louise remembers that dinner for a remark de Portago made at one point. With hindsight, he might

have been dictating his own epitaph. "Life has to be lived to the full." said the Spanish nobleman, who always did just that. "It is better to be wholly alive for thirty years than half-dead for sixty." The next day he was 'wholly dead' at thirty-one.

"Portago was a fascinating character," says Louise, "but I didn't find him attractive in the way that I found Taffy von Trips, Olivier Gendebien and Jo Bonnier attractive. He always seemed rough and unkempt to me - scruffy. Yet he attracted all these unbelievably beautiful women available women and lots of supposedly unavailable women too! He really was extraordinary in the way he got in and out of bed with an amazing number of females without others knowing about it. That man was so busy with women I don't know how he had any time for racing." - p271

"Phil Hill recalls that while Mike called Peter 'Mon ami mate' almost as a matter of course, Peter used it less frequently. At one time on the Saturday afternoon, Mike surely must have said the words with a hard edge to his voice, for Peter crashed his car!

Mike had been dissatisfied with the steering of his Ferrari on the Friday, so it was changed overnight. On the Saturday afternoon he found that the change made a marked improvement, but he was still not happy with the car's performance and asked Peter to have a go in it. 'Mon ami mate' promptly stuffed it at the chicane, piling head-on into a bollard on the very edge of the harbour and coming within an ace of emulating Alberto Ascari's diving exhibition of 1955. Mike was distinctly unchuffed at this, because that was his special, long chassis car and, clearly, it could not be repaired in time for the race.' - p278

'Wolfgang Graf Berghe von Trips was a handsome, charming, 29 year-old Count whose film biography - had it ever been made - could only have starred Robert Redford, who bears him a striking likeness. He started racing in 1950 and proved to be very fast, but wild, having numerous accidents. After a spell with the Mercedes sports car team in 1955, he drove for Porsche for most of '56 until invited to share a Ferrari with Peter Collins in the Swedish sports car GP at the end of the year. The two quickly became great friends and it was Peter who gave von Trips the nickname Taffy, "Because you look like a Taffy.' What the young German made of this irrefutable Collins logic is not on record, but the name stuck and Taffy von Trips went on to become a very popular member of the Ferrari team.

He lived with his parents in their ancestral home Wasserschloss Burg Hemmersbach in Horrem, not far from Cologne and, as he was back on his feet after his Nürburgring crash, Peter and Louise invited him out.

"He joined us for dinner with a beard!! Which makes him look about a million years old.'wrote Louise to her parents. 'He is feeling quite well but has to wear a big plaster cast all round his middle for about two more weeks. The beard came from lying flat on his back for a while and everyone tells him how terrible it is so it shall probably be removed shortly.

After dinner he took us to his house and showed us the films he took on his trip to the Americas this winter. We spent the night there and the next day met the family and took a look around the house and grounds. His home is a huge affair surrounded by two moats and parks, gardens, etc. During the war all the furniture and everything of value was stolen so its still in rather sad shape, but they've fixed up part of it to make it quite pleasant. Now we're at the Nürburgring again and getting back to our "routine weekends"!!' - p293

"He loved cottage pie, mince-meat, rissoles - never anything fancy," said Marge. "He used to sit with his knife and fork in his hands and say, 'flying start, Marge' and I would just put the plate in front of him and off he would go. Whenever he went abroad to race he would say, 'I'll be back on Monday for roast beef and Yorkshire pud.' He hated to be away for long' On rare weekends when he wasn't racing he would get together with Nick Syrett, who lived locally (and who would become Secretary of the British Racing and Sports Car Club in 1958). 'We had a Saturday routine." says Nick. "I would pick him up at the garage, we'd go to The Bush for a couple of pints and then on to Deeley's café in West Street for sausage, egg, chips and baked beans. Deeley's was a real 'greasy spoon' run by a Mr Wackett and Mike used to bring him matchbox labels from all over the world.

"After lunch we'd go to the cinema, irrespective of what was showing and then it would be back to the Duke of Cambridge for a few pints and a game of darts while we decided what we were going to do in the evening. Mike kept on devising these new games of darts which nobody but he understood. That was the whole idea, because it meant that he always won!" - p297

'Peter is now going through a change of life, or something, because he is talking more and more about stopping racing and building houses and raising little Peters and Louises. We've been searching the American housing magazines like mad and cutting out things, etc. I think we want to build a modern American-type house near Peter's home (and that's unheard of here). We have a piece of land about three minutes walking distance from Shatterford Grange that's on top of a hill, with a view both ways that goes for miles and miles.' Louise letters - p298

'It was an eventful journey. They arrived over Milan to find it covered in thick fog, so the plane was diverted to Turin, where they had to wait nearly three hours for a coach to take them to Milan. The coach driver clearly had something of the Kamikaze in him, for he kept trying to overtake huge lorries in the fog, which frightened the life out of Ken and Mike (one of the world's worst passengers).

After a death-defying trip they arrived in Milan to find there was no transport to take them to the railway station, where they were to catch a train to Modena. After walking a fair distance with their luggage, Mike spotted a taxi outside an hotel. They leapt inside, only to find that it had arrived to collect one of the hotel's guests. As they got out, Mike revealed that his years with Ferrari had taught him enough Italian to be able to question the taxi driver's parentage. The taxi driver replied in the same vein and Mike was all set to indulge in some serious fisticuffs until the driver produced his car's starting handle and the engine was already running.... Mike and Ken continued their walk to the station, eventually arriving in Modena just before midnight.' - p300

'Mike left the circuit early, to avoid the rush and - more important - to enjoy a couple of beers at a bar Ivor had found. Later, Mike returned to the motel where he, Peter and Louise, Taffy von Trips and Wolfgang Seidel were staying. He walked into the Collins' room and, finding that Louise had just run a hot bath for her tired, but victorious husband, stepped into it.

"He didn't say a word." remembers Louise. "He just got in, fully clothed and I'll never forget the sight of him lying there, tired and dusty, his clothes ballooning around him and his bow tie askew, as usual.

"He hadn't noticed that Paul O'Shea's wife, Robin, was with us. She burst out laughing and went into the bathroom to tease him. He pulled her down to him for a kiss and turned the shower on at the same time. She got completely soaked! Then Mike got out, carefully negotiated his way around the furniture and squelched out of the room. And he still hadn't said a word!" - p305

'A furious Hawthorn set off to walk back to the pits, only to be diverted by the sight of a beautiful blonde looking out of a window of the Station Hotel. Never one to miss such an opportunity, he asked her for a drink of water and she invited him in, so he clambered through the window, later returning to the pits in a much happier frame of mind' - p310

'Monaco marked the first anniversary of 'mon ami mate' and Mike and Peter continued to read the Four D Jones strip in The Daily Express avidly. Over the past year their friendship had become very close and an acknowledged feature of the racing circus, but what brought it about? In some respects it was clearly the attraction of opposites, for although both were bright, fun-loving personalities, Mike was very much the extrovert, who could be brash, loud and bloody rude when he felt like it, whereas Peter was somewhat introverted - quiet and with a much gentler character.

As their team-mate in 1957-58, Phil Hill became a close friend of both. "Peter was a great guy and always very helpful and friendly to me when I first joined the Scuderia in 1956, although our friendship had started in Argentina in 1954. I felt that he was a better-adjusted person than Mike, who seemed to have a defence mechanism built into his personality that Peter didn't have at all. He didn't find it as easy as Peter to open up to someone he felt he might be able to be friendly with. He wasn't nearly so approachable and he had a real temper! Mike could get really pissed off by something and become angry and irrational and darn near get physical. I remember leaving Monza one time and we were on the grass, driving past a line of stationary cars and there was an old lady on a bike in front of us and she just would not get out of the way. This infuriated Mike, so he gave her a push and she fell in a heap. She wasn't hurt and we drove on. Mike often got away with things like that." - p310

'The constant travelling meant that we were living in hotels, so our room became a home away from home for Peter and me, and for Mike, too. We had a refuge that he also enjoyed, so he would come and sit with us and he and Peter would get stuck into the endless supply of mystery paperbacks they had bought in Reims in 1957.

I became the den mother, constantly making tea for them, doing their ironing and sewing on buttons while they read their books. Occasionally I would cook for them, so I would be sent out to do the shopping. When we were in England or Europe I always had to buy The Daily Express, so they could catch up on Four D Jones. They called each other 'mon ami mate' and I became 'mon ami matess'.

"Their friendship never imposed on our marriage. Peter and I were really fantastically close, there was this tremendous bond between us and in the eighteen months we had together I don't remember anyone - certainly not Mike-interrupting that bond. The love we had for each other was so terrific and we were so close - physically all the time that no-one could come between us. It was not as if Peter went off to work every day.

"The three of us had a very nice, easy relationship. Mike was dear and we really enjoyed being together. His rudery was never directed at us usually at someone who got him a little off-base. He was boisterous and always funny, like the time when he climbed fully- clothed into the bath I had just run for Peter. I'm sure - that was just his way of releasing the tension of racing, which none of the boys ever wanted to talk about.

"Mike was always being pursued by various females and, of course, he did a fair amount of pursuing himself. When Peter and I were on 'Mipooka' in Monte Carlo harbour, Peter would often point out a pretty girl on the quay, saying, 'Don't you think Mike would fancy her?" For his part, if Mike met a girl he thought an old married couple like us would approve of he would introduce her, but if he found someone he thought we wouldn't like, he would go to enormous trouble to avoid us!

"I think our marriage made the relationship between Peter and Mike even closer than it would have been otherwise, because I was always there and I did accept Mike as Peter's very best friend. It was good for me, too, because I didn't have any close girlfriends during that time. I never got to know Katie Moss well at all, we were in different camps, but Harry Schell's wife, Monique, became a good friend. In the Ferrari team I was surrounded by delightful fellas like Phil and Taffy and Olivier, but next to Peter my closest relationship was with Mike, although he was never my confidant - I would never speak to him about a personal matter 1 wouldn't discuss with Peter." - p310

'Roy Salvadori liked both men enormously, but in his opinion, "They were possibly the worst pair of drivers Ferrari ever had! They were so friendly they weren't doing their best for the team. You used to see them following each other around, taking it in turns to lead, or tackle somebody, and you won't get results that way in Grand Prix racing. Can you imagine Peter sticking his neck out to beat Mike? It never happened, because it didn't matter to him whether he was quicker than Mike in practice or the race. They were so friendly they wanted to share everything, so they never pushed each other.' - p310/311

'The most important thing about Peter was that he had such an engaging personality. He could be infuriating, but it was literally impossible (even for me) to be annoyed with him for long. He could get away with anything just by turning on the charm, which never seemed to be forced or insincere. It seemed to illuminate everything he did and I never met anyone who was impervious to it." - p317

'By the time Peter arrived in Modena, Dino was also suffering from nephritis and his life was slipping away. Peter went to see him and the two young men born scarcely a couple of months apart formed an immediate rapport, as Romolo Tavoni testifies.

"Peter was a very good friend for Dino, because he was very sympathetic and understanding. Dino would say, 'Peter - are you going to the movies tonight?'

'No. I will stay here with you. Why?'

'Because if you go to the movies, tomorrow morning you can tell me all about it. I cannot get out of bed. I am like a small bird in a big cage.'

"So Peter would go to the cinema and the next day he would describe to Dino the movie he had seen. Naturally, this kindness created a very good impression with Enzo Ferrari and the Signora, although Peter did not do it for this reason." - p318

'At the end of June, Dino died. Enzo Ferrari and Laura were devastated, but at the same time they seemed to find in Peter a surrogate son and lavished kindness and affection upon him. Dino had had the use of a flat above the Ristorante Cavallino and not long after his death Ferrari insisted that Peter leave the Reale Hotel and move in. It is said that Signora Ferrari often made his breakfast and even took care of his laundry on occasion.' - p318

'"I got the distinct impression that the Old Man was looking to Peter to replace Dino in a sense - in an emotional rather than a family way. Peter learned to speak Italian well and often joined Ferrari for meals. He had arrived on the scene almost at the moment of Ferrari's greatest grief and I think the Old Man liked the fact that he was probably the least serious of all the drivers he ever had. He had this wonderful boyish, infectious sense of humour and he was always laughing. Ferrari was clearly very fond of him and they had a very good relationship." - p318

'Bernard Cahier is even more emphatic. "Ferrari fell in love with Peter and after Dino died he looked upon him as a second son. Peter enjoyed this relationship and spent much of his time at Maranello, but when he married Louise the Old Man became very jealous - he didn't like drivers' wives or girlfriends around at the best of times. A few years ago he told me that Peter was his favourite driver of all, but added, He would have had a wonderful career had it not been for that donna - that woman!"

Jabby Crombac has the same impression. "When Peter first went to Ferrari he was the darling of Enzo and his wife, Laura and when Dino died, Peter became the son they had lost, but when he married Louise, the climate changed immediately." - p318

'Throughout that year, whenever they were in Modena the Collinses would dine frequently with the Ferraris and Peter would spend a great deal of time with the Old Man. "They were certainly parental figures in both our lives." says Louise. "It is said that Ferrari didn't like it when Peter and I got married, but he never showed it to me. They were both very kind and always showed great warmth towards me."

Due to her lack of Italian, Louise's relationship with the Ferraris hardly extended beyond smiles, nods and gestures, but Peter arguably got closer to Enzo than any other driver, before or since. This intimacy brought fourth a remarkable result late in 1957, shortly before the Italian Grand Prix.' - p319

'Peter decided it was time to put their special relationship to the test. He went to see the Old Man and gave him a severe talking to.

"He felt that the root cause of Ferrari's unhappiness was the loss of Dino." says Louise. "He told him that he had done enough mourning; that he should stop living in the past (which he never did otherwise) and that he should pay attention to the racing programme and get it going again.

"Ferrari just sat there and said nothing, and I remember Peter coming back to me looking very worried. 'I don't think he'll ever speak to me again.' he said, 'I'm probably out of a job!"

What happened next astonished Peter and Louise. Ferrari summoned them both to his office, where he thanked Peter profusely for his advice and then made them a remarkable offer, as Louise excitedly informed her parents a few days later.

Ferrari has decided that he would keep us in Modena more if we had a nice place to live, so he has given us his villa near the factory at Maranello to use for as long as we want, They haven't lived in it since the war, so the day before yesterday we opened it up and started to clean the place. Its quite modern and we're thrilled to death with it. All we had to do was to open the windows and peasant-type people came screaming in to help. Peter has been getting some exercise getting weeds out of the driveway and I'm working miracles with soap and water inside. On the first floor we have two big rooms and a huge hall - both with marble floors - a small john and kitchen, and on the second floor three bedrooms, very big modern bathroom, a small room which will be a bar and a balcony that runs the full length of the house.' - p320

'Peter and Louise were in for another surprise. Enzo and Laura Ferrari arrived and presented Louise with a big three-diamond ring! 'We're still not quite sure why they gave it to me,' she wrote to her parents, 'but believe me, they got thanked good and proper. WOW!' - p320

'for a couple of weeks later Peter and Louise closed up the villa in Maranello and moved on board their new boat in Monte Carlo harbour.

That move was the beginning of the end of the special relationship. "Ferrari actually became jealous because Peter had escaped his clutches." recalls Jabby Crombac. "By leaving Maranello, Peter had deserted the family. He had become a traitor!"

So why did Peter leave? "He had become unhappy living under the Ferrari yoke at Modena." says Phil Hill.

"No matter who you were, when you lived there you had to toe the Ferrari line and like so many other people Peter became uncomfortable at always having to please Ferrari - for everything to have to go his way. Ferrari did everything he could to make Louise and Peter happy in that little house down the road from Maranello. He felt good having Peter nearby and he was not at all pleased when they went to live in Monte Carlo," - p320

'On their return from Le Mans, Peter and Louise stayed overnight at the Frensham Ponds Hotel, near Farnham, and spent some time with Mike and his mother in their house at Folley Hill, before heading North for Kidderminster. "The funny thing about that" says Louise, "was that Mike had complained bitterly about there being no headroom for him on our boat in Monte Carlo, yet in his own home he had to duck through every doorway!" - p321

'Peter was very upset about being dropped from the Grand Prix and that evening there was a pretty heated meeting between himself, Mike, Tavoni and Ken Gregory in the Collinses hotel suite at the Lion d'Or. "Mike took full blame for wrecking the clutch at Le Mans," says Ken, "but I was never sure that Tavoni believed him. Eventually, we persuaded Tavoni to talk to Ferrari on Peter's behalf and he phoned him the next day, with the result that Peter got his drive in the Grand Prix, as well as doing the F2 race." - p325

'Tony Rudd was there with BRM and he recalls having lunch at the Lion d'Or with Harry Schell. "He told me that he was going to have a good steak and a bottle of Beaujolais, then he was going to take his wife, Monique to bed for one of the best experiences of her life! During the meal, Mike Hawthorn passed by and whispered to me "Keep him talking!" Later, I learned that when Harry and Monique got to their room they found that absolutely everything had been removed, there was just a large vase of flowers in the middle of the floor. Then they found that they had been locked in.

"Harry kicked up such a spectacular row that next day the perpetrators carried his little Vespa car in off the street and up the stairs to the card room on the second floor, where they left it with a 'For sale' sign on top" - p325

'Despite the tragedy, the Grand Prix circus carried on as usual. That night Tony Rudd walked into everyone's favourite watering hole, Bridget's Bar, to be greeted by Mike.

""Glad you've come.' he said, and proceeded to wind a hosepipe round and round my waist before sticking the nozzle down my trousers. I managed to remove it just before he turned the water on!" - p326

'For his part, Peter apparently resolved to help Mike all he could in his quest for the Championship, as Sir David Brown recalls. 'Peter and Louise came aboard my boat in Monte Carlo several times before the British Grand Prix and I remember a discussion when Peter suggested that instead of hanging back and driving to finish at Silverstone, he should go flat out and tempt the opposition to chase him and blow up. He would either blow up, too, or slow down and allow Mike to go through and win. He asked me what I thought and I said, 'Its all right if it works.', but it didn't work. He led from the start, but his car did not blow up and he won!" - p327

'The Collins family returned joyously to Shatterford Grange, taking with them Tony Brooks and his fiancée, Pina Resegotti, whom he had met when the Aston Martin team was racing at Rouen in 1956. Peter booked them into a nearby hotel and was astonished when Tony asked for separate rooms. Pina laughs at the memory. "He was so impressed by that. To think that there were still some people who did not sleep together before they were married! He joked about it almost in amazement but in a very nice way. He respected our decision, although he obviously thought we were crazy. Peter had such tremendous charm and savoir faire. That weekend he spent some time trying to persuade Tony to join Ferrari - 'You will fit in so well with Mike and me.'" - p329

"Racing weekends in general were very social," recalls Louise "and when we went to the hotel lobby or restaurant it was always a time of high energy. Mike spent a great deal of time with us and I can't remember the first occasion I woke up to find him in our bedroom, looking down on Peter and me saying, 'Where's the tea?' Invariably he would join us for breakfast and he and Peter would bully me - there was never enough tea and while I was ringing Room Service for more they would drink up all the milk." - p333

'Meanwhile back at the start and finish area the racing fraternity was in a fearful state of uncertainty, as American journalist Denise McCluggage recalled in Auto Week:

'We didn't hear anything. We didn't know anything. There had been a helicopter, we were told. They had taken Peter to Bonn. And time stretched on.

'I don't remember whose room we were in at the Sporthotel under the stands, nor exactly who was there. Eight or ten others. We were waiting an understood but acknowledged waiting. Anyone close to racing is familiar with it. And in the meantime we talked and laughed. I was cutting Jo Bonnier's hair.

'Jo and I were the only ones facing the open door and we saw Mike first and froze and then everyone else turned and froze.

Mike Hawthorn was big and square-jawed and fair- haired. So fair. One of those English schoolboy faces that said "Goodbye, Mr Chips." to Robert Donat. He was still in his driving clothes - his dirty white pants, his green battle-jacket. His face was streaked. And tired.

'He didn't have to say anything. Slowly in his hands he turned a shattered brown crash hat we all recognised as Peter's.'

Mike went to his room and packed his belongings. He was then told by Artur Keser of Mercedes that Peter was seriously hurt and had been flown to Bonn. He packed Peter's and Louise's things and then, with Harry Schell, set out for the hospital in the Mercedes Peter and Harry had hired at the airport a couple of days earlier.' - p336

"They wanted to see Peter, so I went to the Reception and said, 'I am Tavoni of Ferrari and I want to see Peter Collins, who has been brought here by helicopter.'

"But you will see a dead man!' said the receptionist.

"I told her his wife is here and she wants to see him."

Louise was adamant. "I needed to see him, otherwise I wasn't going to believe he was dead." she says. "I think Mike and I probably still had a strong feeling that it was all a mistake. I remember going into the room and he was on a table of sorts. I just saw one foot and it was absolutely white. It could have been anyone's foot, but I finally knew. I didn't need to see anything else."

Tavoni remembers vividly that "The doctor pulled back the sheet and there was Peter, like he was asleep. Mike took one look, turned and went out into the corridor, where he leaned against the wall and slid down to the floor. He just sat there, saying nothing. I looked at Peter. There was a bruise on one arm and the skin at the back of his neck was very red, but that was all." - p336

"There were hundreds of people waiting to see us get off the plane." remembers Louise. "The observation platform at Heathrow was absolutely packed and the Press were everywhere. There was a special Press reception area and when Mike and I walked in it was like going through a tunnel of people. Mike spoke to them briefly and then someone produced a car for us and we drove up to Kidderminster. When we got there we were in such a state that we couldn't remember how to get to Shatterford, so we found The Black Boy at Bewdley and Alistair Wilson looked after us."

"They arrived here at about 7 pm in Mike's Jaguar." recalls Alistair. "Louise was in a bit of a state and stayed outside the pub having a couple of brandies. As Pat and Elaine were still on their way back from Dartmouth, she had arranged to pick up some keys for Shatterford Grange from the Lodge to the house, but neither she nor Mike could remember how to get to Shatterford from Bewdley. I led them over in my car and once they had got the keys I left them there to wait for the others." - p337

'Mike was absolutely shattered by the death of 'mon ami mate'.

"It really floored him." says Bill Morgan, who was still running the TT Garage with Mrs Hawthorn. "He talked about it frequently in the following weeks and it affected him very badly - he nearly finished with racing right there and then. On more than one occasion he sat with me in the office and said, 'Bill, I'm giving up. I'm getting the twitch."

He said much the same thing to Jill Hume-Kendall.

"He was in floods of tears and very shaky about the whole thing. He wasn't at all sure that he could go on racing." - p338

'I have never seen Ferrari as upset as he is now over Peter's death. He said that since his own son died he regarded Peter as his son and wanted to give us the villa and to give Peter part of the Ferrari factory. He was so much like Peter's father with so many plans for his future and now all that is just finished. Well, its wonderful that Peter did have that marvellous relationship with Ferrari.' - p338

'Mike decided to continue racing, feeling a deep obligation towards Peter, who had been trying so hard to help him win the title. His earlier decision to retire at the end of the year, however, was now set in stone as a result of Peter's death.' - p339

'The evidence that cleared Mike came, remarkably, from his great rival Stirling Moss.

"I spoke up for Mike because it looked as though they might disqualify him and I didn't want to win the Championship by default. I had seen him stall the car and I told him to go down the hill and re-start. But he wasn't on the circuit - he was on the escape road, so there was no question of him going against the traffic and I felt that he should not be disqualified.

"It cost me the Championship, but so what? It depends on which way you want to win it. I liked Mike so I volunteered the information. If it had been someone else I might have waited to see if I was asked." - p340

'Mike was staying at the Palace Hotel, in Milan, as was Louise, who realised with a jolt that the great friendship she and Peter had shared with him was virtually over. "With Peter gone, his attitude towards me changed completely." she says. "It was probably the simple fact that we were not three anymore. I went to his room on the morning of the race and we had tea together. It was a mistake. Later, we went to the circuit with some friends of his and after the race I saw him only very briefly before he was gone."

The friends were Michael and Noreen Irving Swift, who lived near Mike in Farnham and were holidaying in Italy, having arranged to go to the race with him. "When we arrived at the Palace Hotel it was about mid- day and he was still in bed." says Michael. "He wasn't looking forward to the race at all the Championship was really getting to him. Eventually five of us set off for Monza - Mike, Jack Dunfee, my wife and I and Louise. We all piled into Mike's Lancia Aurelia, which had no brakes as such, so it was quite a ride. Louise was holding together quite well in the circumstances, for not only was this her first race since Peter's death, but certain charming sections of the Press were trying to make out that she and Mike were having and affair, which was nonsense." - p343

'A week or so later, he took his girlfriend Jean Howarth to Paris, where he first admired the curves of the cars at the Salon and later those of the girls at the Saloon (Crazy Horse).

"There was one who did a reverse strip-tease." says Jean. "Mike found that very interesting! It was a great relief for him to get away from England for a few days. The long gap between the races made him very nervous and people would keep asking him silly questions about the Championship."' - p346

'Previously he had never come to my bedroom the night before a race, but he did in Casablanca. Most unlike Michael!' - p347

"You did it, you old so-and-so." said the gallant loser, who must have been bitterly disappointed to have won four races and still failed to secure the title.

An ecstatic Romolo Tavoni clapped Mike on the back.

"Next year we will do it again."

"I won't be racing next year." said Mike, "I'm going to retire."

Tavoni didn't believe him.

For the man who had just become World Champion, Mike was decidedly lacking in excitement immediately after the race. "He was quite strange - he didn't want to know anyone." says Jean Howarth. "He walked me away from the circuit with everyone trying to get him back. He just wanted to get to the hotel for some peace and quiet and he was worried about Stuart Lewis- Evans, for the news of him was not good. And Olivier Gendebien had had a big accident, too." - p348

'What should have been a glorious day of victory for Mike ended in a pretty downbeat manner, with everyone deeply concerned about the condition of the very popular Stuart Lewis-Evans. Mike, Jean and some friends decided to have a couple of drinks in their hotel room before turning in, but then Ralph Martin of Shell arrived and suggested they all go to a nearby night club and join up with John Cooper, Roy Salvadori, Graham Hill and Cliff Allison.

They went, but not before Mike had sent a cable to Louise, who was playing in 'Romanoff and Juliet' at the National Theatre in Washington, DC. Deeply conscious of the part Peter had played in his success, Mike gave Louise the good news:

'WE HAVE DONE IT MON AMI MATESS. WILL WRITE SOON. LOVE MON AMI MATE. MICHAEL.' - p348

"He walked into a wall of something he never expected all the fuss that went with the title. His idea of the end of season was to go splashing about in the mud on his motor bike, chasing girls and drinking in pubs, but now he was virtually under arrest from the time he became World Champion. He didn't have a moment to himself and he had no agent, no organisation to deal with it." - p349

'Mike and Jean spent Christmas with Mrs Hawthorn at Green Fields, on Folley Hill. It was not the most enjoyable of Christmas Days for Mike, as his kidneys were giving him considerable pain and he spent the day in bed. He recovered in time to spend New Year's Eve with Jean at nearby Wanborough Manor, but New Year's Day brought him something of a slap in the face Britain's first World Champion was not included in the New Year's Honours List! Nor was Tony Vandervell, whose Vanwalls had done so much for Britain's prestige and had won the Constructors' title. However, Stirling Moss, who had not won the World Championship, was awarded the Order of the British Empire.

The racing world was delighted for Stirling, who thoroughly deserved his honour, but the omission of Mike Hawthorn and Tony Vandervell from the list seemed like a calculated snub by someone. Nick Syrett phoned his friend to commiserate.

"I see your mate won the OBE, then." he said, with some sarcasm.

"Yes," said Mike, "Order of the Bald Ead."

And that was the end of that conversation.' - p352

"When Mike asked my father's permission to marry me he had not - understandably - said anything about his illegitimate son in France." says Jean. "I went home to explain that situation and the following weekend Mike was going to Paris to see his French lawyer and make some kind of settlement on the boy." - p353

"I'd been staying with Peter's parents at Shatterford Grange, and on my way to London I stopped and called Mike to confirm the time of our date at the Westbury. He sounded marvellous and said he would meet me at 3 o'clock. I'd hardly seen him at all since Peter died, so I was really looking forward to that afternoon." - p354

'Mr James Marks saw the crash from his house. He told The Daily Express; 'When the two cars passed me they were going at such a speed I knew something must happen at the bends they were approaching. They were neck and neck as they went by my house. I opened the window to watch. The Jaguar, approaching the bend, just could not get far enough over to the far side to negotiate it. It shot across the road and ended in a ditch.' - p354

"The car was on its side, wrapped around a tree....Hawthorn was barely breathing. He had no pulse. He was deeply unconscious. He possibly breathed twice, but it was too late to do anything." - p355

'John Coombs also called Bill Morgan at the TT Garage.

"He told me that Mike had had a spill and would I come down straightaway. I went to find Mrs H and we joked about it. 'Hope he hasn't done any damage. Then Coombs called again and said, 'Don't come here, they've taken him to the Guildford Hospital.' When we arrived there, someone came out to meet us and before he could say a word, Mrs H said, 'My son is dead, isn't he?'" - p355

'Not long after the funeral the surgeon who had operated on Mike in 1954 wrote to Bill Morgan to say that while his death was very sad, it was really for the best. He had died in an instant and without suffering, whereas had he lived it would have only been for another year or eighteen months, as his kidneys were deteriorating rapidly and would have caused him a great deal of unpleasantness before they failed completely. Their condition was incurable. Duncan Hamilton was told the same story by the man who had conducted Mike's autopsy.' - p359

#this is a very long read #but filled with lots and lots of information #funny and sad #classic f1 #f1 #formula one #formula 1 #vintage f1 #mike hawthorn #peter collins

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justmeinadaze · 2 years ago

Text

Take It Out On Me Part 8 (Steddie X Plus Size Reader)

A/N: 🫠

Warnings: Dom Steddie and plus size sub reader and all that that implies! (I regret nothing!). Smut for sure. Degrading (whore, brat, slut I believe), slapping, choking, handcuffs 🫠, DP, overstimulation as a punishment. Jealous Steddie especially Steve, Steve and Billy fight (mentions of the aftermath), angsty feels with a dash of fluff near the end!

Word count: 5668

After that night at Steve’s house, the next few months felt like they flew by; for you anyway. When you weren’t with the guys or Masie, you were busy with school and basketball. By the time December rolled around, you were ecstatic for the upcoming winter break.

Since you had been helping them with their schoolwork, Steve had finally taken you up on your offer to sit with you and your friend at lunch. Masie hated it at first but after noticing the turnaround he had made from last year she started to actually enjoy his presence.

“It makes no fucking sense.”, Steve whined as he furrowed his eyebrows.

“It’s science. None of it makes sense.”, she giggles.

“I’m afraid I can’t help you too much with that. I mean I have my notes but physics isn’t my forte. Eddie may know something.”

“Munson is into science fiction. Not the same thing.”

“Eh, it feels like it is.”, Masie shrugs as she looks over her own work.

A gentle sigh left your chest as you felt Steve’s legs lean against yours under the table. It was so hard for you to keep your hands off them at school and it seemed to be just as equally hard for them. One day during your free period, Steve pulled you into a nearby closet outside of the gym and fucked you against the wall as you tried not to scream, giving yourselves away.

After a heated D&D session during a Hellfire club meeting, Eddie bent you over the table and pounded into you until you were quiet literally begging him to stop because you had cum too many times.

Of course, after the rough, the calm followed. One weekend, they took you to see the new Wes Craven movie, A Nightmare on Elm Street, that freaked Steve out but Eddie thought was amazing. Eddie took you to your first concert just outside of town and you had a blast listening to Dio live. Your favorite part though was being able to fall asleep next to him at his trailer afterwards. He looked so peaceful when he slept and all the anxieties he seemed to carry just disappeared.

Steve took you to a play at the theater and even bought you a beautiful dress that you loved. When the production started, he seemed bored until you held his hand and leaned against his shoulder. He kissed the top of your head as you smiled.

The sound of the bell shook you back into the moment as the three of you headed to your next class. This particular class you and Steve had together but you also shared it with Billy who continued to make the boy’s life hell. Today was different, however. Instead of coming in and flirting with you like he usual did, Billy angrily sauntered in and threw his body into the chair next to you.

Anger was just radiating off him which is something you had seen in with Eddie and Steve. It wasn’t just a normal type of anger but one mixed with pain.

“Can I help you?”, he snapped. You hadn’t realized you were staring at him.

“Are…are you alright?”

“Like you fucking care.”

“Hey!”, Steve growled. “Don’t talk to her that way.”

Billy glared at the boy as class begun. About halfway through you felt a light tap on your shoulder as a note slid across your desk.

I’m sorry if I scared you, pretty girl. Just had a rough morning.

You turn your head to see him gently smiling at you, his blue eyes shimmering as they meet yours.

You don’t scare me. You just aren’t displaying your usual arrogance is all.”

Billy chuckles as he leans back in his seat, writing something down before handing the paper back to you.

God, baby, do I love your attitude.

ARE you alright?

My dad and I had a disagreement…about respect.

Your heart breaks slightly as you glance at him again. Just like Eddie and Steve, he seemed to have a shitty dad but unlike them it didn’t seem like he wanted to try and become a better man. If anything, you imagined his father probably carried the same demeanor Billy did.

You handed the note back to him without writing anything in return and he huffed a bit before passing it back to you.

I can probably teach you a thing or two about respect, baby girl. If you’d let me. I assure you a bitch like Steve Harrington can only teach beautiful women like yourself that there are better men out there who can satisfy and take care of you.

As the bell rung you crumpled the note and threw it at his chest as you rose to your feet. When your eyes met Steve’s firey ones you knew you were in trouble.

##############

“Tina is having a party tonight. Are we going or…?”

“That is the vaguest invite I’ve ever gotten to a party.”, you giggle as you place the book in your hands back onto the shelf. “Who’s Tina?”

“I don’t know, Y/N. Fucking Tina!”, Masie smiles. “It’s supposed to be a big thing. Eddie will be there.”, she teases as you roll your eyes.

You follow behind her as she continues to walk forward, heading towards the next aisle of books in the library when suddenly a ringed hand darted out from a dark room and pulled you in, closing the door.

“Jesus! You scared me.” You breathed a sigh of relief as your eyes landed on Eddie and Steve.

“Good. You should be scared. What were you and Billy Hargrove talking about?”, the metalhead asked.

Your eyes lulled towards the other boy full of annoyance. “First off, tattle tell. Second, nothing. He yelled at me before class and just wanted to apologize.”

“That guy isn’t the type to apologize, Y/N.”

“Harrington, you didn’t tell me he yelled at her.”

“Hey, I got on him, alright? And even if he was ‘just apologizing’ like she claims then why were they going back and forth until the bell rang? He definitely said more than that.”

Your eyes met Eddie’s as understanding flashed through them.

“Ah. I see. Seems they were talking about you, Stevie.”

“What about me?” The boy stepped back so his friend could take over as he loomed over you. “Answer the question. What the fuck did that asshole say?”

“Please…let it go. I don’t want you to get in trouble.”

“Oh. Okay, I get it. You think he’s better than me, hm?”

“I didn’t say that!”

Steve hand gripped your throat as he walked you back towards the wall. “Then what are you saying?”

“Why does it matter, Daddy? He’s not important.”

“It matters, little girl, because I say it does. Now…this is the last chance I’m giving you before we raise the blinds and spank you in front of all these people outside.”

You sighed as your head hung, telling him everything Billy had said. While you were talking, Steve’s palm had slide down your arm and steadily began tightening his grip as he got angrier.

Eddie noticed the panicked look in your eyes as he stepped forward. “Ok, Harrington. She did good and answered you. Loosen your hold or let her go, man.”

The boy blinked back into the moment, releasing you before opening the door to the study room and disappearing.

“I just didn’t want to hurt him.”

“I know, sweetheart.”, Eddie pulled you into his arms. “I know. He’ll cool down by tonight. What did you want to do tonight, by the way? I was thinking we could rent a movie or something.”

“I can’t come over tonight. Masie invited me to go to a party with her.”

The boy pulled back from your embrace and sat on the table in front of you as he crossed his arms. “You didn’t say anything about a party before.”

“She just told me about it. I don’t know the host but it could be fun. You guys should come.”

“So, you’re going to a party at someone’s house you don’t know filled with people who have bullied you and hurt you at the last party you went to?”

Your eyes scanned his annoyed demeanor. “What the problem, Eddie?” His eyebrows raised as your jaw tightened. “I’m sorry, Sir.”

“Thank you. The problem is I don’t think you should go. You have all the popular assholes and I’m sure this other douchebag will be there.”

“Then come with me and show him who I belong to.”

Eddie sighs as he shakes his head. “No.”

A growl emits from your throat and his head snaps up to look at you. “Did Steve tell you that Billy calls me names like ‘pretty girl’ and ‘baby girl’ to? Hell, he shouts it in the fucking hallway. Why are you both still afraid to be seen with me at school?”

“First of all, you watch you tone when you’re speaking to me. Second, we are not afraid to be seen with you.”

“Oh please! Yeah, Steve sits with us at lunch but people think it’s because we’re dorks who help him with his homework. You guys didn’t even sit with me in our classes. Billy did.”

“I see. Then why don’t you go fuck him then!”

“Don’t test me, Eddie. I am NOT that shy girl anymore.” You both glare at each other. “You may be in charge of me or whatever but I deserve to be shown off.”

When he doesn’t respond, you huff out of the study room on a mission.

“Y/N, where have you been? I’ve been looking—”

You pass by Masie out of the library and into the parking lot where you find Billy smoking a cigarette by his car.

“Hey, pretty girl.”

“Do you want to go to a party with me tonight?!”

“Whoa. Um…yeah, sure. Sounds like fun.”

When you turn back around, you find Eddie, Steve, and Masie staring at you like you’ve gone insane. As you head back and grab your friend’s arm, you address them. “I deserve to be seen. I’m tired of everything being unclear!”

You were playing with fire but to you it was worth it.

############

“Wow. You look breath taking.”

You smiled as Billy held his car door open for you. Tonight, you decided to go all out wearing a beautiful short sleeve dress that cut off just above your knee. The top was black and the skirt was a bright purple with a belt cutting the colors in half in the middle. Instead of wearing Eddie’s jacket, you decided on a black jacket of your own that still showed off your curves. Thankfully, your parents were out of town this weekend so they wouldn’t make you wear something else.

The entire drive to Tina’s, Billy kept glancing over at your body.

“How, um, how are things with your dad? Did he still get on your case when you got home?”

He chuckled until he realized you were genuinely asking. “Oh, uh, no. They weren’t home and my stepsister is out with friends so no one to get on my case.”, he winks.

“I get that. Is your mom a bit of hard ass as well?”

“No. Susan is alright.” You noticed his tone change so you decided to leave it there. “What about you?”

“My parents can be strict but nothing too dramatic.”

“Hm. How do they feel about you and King Steve?”

“There’s nothing between me and Steve.”

“Uh huh. Sure, honey. I’m not an idiot and I’m not blind. He obviously has a thing for you and vise versa. What I don’t get is why neither of you makes a move. Is it because of that long haired dude everyone calls a freak? I’ve seen you talk to him to. Keeping your options open?”

You exhale at his line of questioning, mostly because it’s loaded with condescension towards Steve and Eddie.

“I assume that’s why you invited me to this party. Hey, I’m not upset. I’ve told you before I’m more than happy to show you how a real man treats a queen like you, gorgeous.”

As soon as he pulls up to the house, you recognize Eddie’s van immediately. You look around for him and Steve, oddly feeling lonely that they weren’t beside you. Billy leads you into the kitchen and hands you a cup filled with bitter liquid. He laughs as you cough and rubs your back.

“Don’t tell me you can’t handle your alcohol, baby girl!”, he shouts over the music. Some of the other kids swarm around him including Tommy.

“Wow, Y/N. Getting around I see.”

Billy glares at him as he pulls the boy by the collar. “Hey! You show the lady some respect, asshole.”

Tommy holds up his hands in defense as he and some of the other boys head outside with Billy in tow. You refill your cup and slosh it back before following after them. As they set him up in front of keg, a strong cologne smell you’ve come to enjoy fills the air.

“Having a good time?” Steve stands beside you as he watches the display before him.

“I would hope so especially since I told her not to come.” Eddie snapped the lighter closed after lighting the cigarette in his mouth.

“Yeah and then you told me I should just fuck him so…”, you shrug.

“Hm. Well you’ll have to tell us if he lives up to that promise of ‘being a better man that can satisfy you’.”

You feel the tears sting your eyes as they speak.

“Eddie told me what you said about wanting to be seen. I guess taking you on dates in town and spending time with you outside of school isn’t enough. We should smack a name tag on you or something that says ‘Eddie and Steve’s girl.’” When he finally turns to look at you, his eyes fully drink you in. “Still can’t just fucking be, can we?”

“Harrington!”, Billy saunters over with beer dribbling down his abs. “You had your chance. Pretty girl said she wanted to spend tonight with me. Go play with someone else.”

Eddie’s fists clench at his sides as he stops himself from punching the man in front him for putting his hands on you. You were theirs. Billy was touching something that belonged to them and what was worse was you didn’t move away or recoil at his touch but instead walked back inside the house with him.

After that moment, the tension in the air hangs between the three of you that no one else seems to notice. While you sit on the couch with your date, your eyes dart around, watching Steve dance with another girl while another flirtatiously runs her hand along Eddie’s chest as he leans in close to talk to her over the music.

Angrily, you rise from your seat and head towards the kitchen to get more fuel for what you were about to do.

“Hey! Hey, hey. You don’t need any more.” Billy reaches over trying to take the now empty up cup from your hand.

“You don’t tell me what to do.”

His gorgeous blue eyes narrow down at as he smirks, bumping you with his chest as he gradually walks you back towards the counter.

“Do you want me to?”

Your lips attach to his as you cling to his neck. He tasted better then you thought he would but the overpowering hint of nicotine was almost too much. Eddie tasted like cigarettes but he was a delicious mix of other things that drove you crazy. Steve’s lips always lingered with you even after you stopped kissing him. The best way to describe his taste was just that it was Steve. You could kiss them both until your own lips went numb. With Billy, you couldn’t remove his mouth from yours fast enough.

They trailed down your neck as his strong palms gripped the back of your thighs and lifted you onto the countertop. Your fingers tangled in his hair as he grinded against your center. When you opened your eyes they met Eddie’s as he leaned against the fridge watching with his arms folded. He glanced out into the living room before turning to face you again, rising 3 fingers in the air. A shaky breath left you as he began counting down and as soon as he hit zero, Steve came into view.

He asked the metalhead what he was doing before turning to you. Your pussy fluttered as you watched the fire quickly build in his eyes.

“Billy…”, you whispered as Steve confidently strides towards you both.

“Yeah, baby?”

The man grabs his shoulder, yanking him around before punching him in the face. As he flies towards the opposite counter, Steve roughly grips your waist and places you on your feet, shoving you towards Eddie and out of the way.

Billy laughs sarcastically as he stands to face him, taking a swing of his own as the boy tucks out of the way and hits him again. The other man grabs a nearby cup throwing the liquid in Steve’s face before punching him in the stomach.

“No!” You lurch forward but Eddie grips your arm, pulling you back as he steps forward to take over. Coming from behind he grips the man’s arms, tugging him off of his friend.

“Now, William, if you can’t fight fair then we won’t either.”

Steve stands to his full height and grabs Billy’s collar. “No more nicknames. No more hitting on her. No more even looking in her direction. She belongs to people already and you’re not one of them. Do I make myself clear?” The boy glares at him as his jaw tightens causing Steve to punch him again. “I SAID DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR!?”

“Yeah, man.”

“Good boy.” He pats his cheek as Eddie tosses him to the ground. Steve bypasses you as the metalhead grabs your arm and follows him out the front door towards his van.

“You’re hurting me, Sir.” Your tone is feeble as you try and tug yourself out of his grasp.

“Oh, did you hear that, Harrington? Calling me by my title like she knows how to follow instructions.”

They open the backdoors of the van and all but lift you inside before slamming the doors shut. As Eddie starts to drive down the road you sit behind his seat as you cling to your knees. You glance at Steve who’s still fuming as he glares out the windshield. You can’t help the tears that fall as you notice a cut that’s bleeding above his cheekbone near his eye where Billy had hit him. His attire still completely trenched in red punch.

Steve’s eyes flick down towards you before he focuses his attention back to the window. “Save those tears, Y/N. We’re about to give you a real reason to fucking cry.”

“Daddy…I’m…I’m sorry.”

“No, little girl, but you will be.”

###########

As soon as you got three got back to Steve’s house, he pulled you out of the van and pushed you through the house till you reached his bedroom.

“I think you should take over until I’ve calmed down a bit.”

“You. Sit.” Eddie gestures towards the bed and you immediately do as your told. “Do you want me to take care of his welt on your face?”

“No, dude. Not yet. Let her continue to see what her stupid fucking actions did.”, he spits as he takes a seat in his desk chair.

They expected to see you pout but when you squared your shoulders, it surprised them. “You were flirting with other girls to. I saw it!”

“Oh? You saw us kissing on other girls? Grinding our dicks between their legs?” You hung your head at Eddie’s words. “Yeah, that’s what I thought you fucking whore. Now shut the fuck up while I talk to Harrington here.”

“You also invited him and rode with him to Tina’s house. Who knows what else you did with him before you got there!”

“Nothing, Daddy! I swear!”

The metalhead digs through some of the other man’s things and finds what he is looking for. He marches up to you, tearing the duct tape from the role and placing it over your mouth.

“Shut. Up.” He turns to Steve. “What were you thinking? Spanking?”

“I don’t know…she might enjoy that too much.”

“I know something she won’t enjoy.” A wicked smirk spreads across his face as he disappears heading outside towards his van.

Steve’s eyes penetrate yours as you both wait. “So did he prove himself? Show you what a real man can do for a girl like you?” He chuckled when you shook your head. “That’s a shame. Makes all this drama seem like a waste. You fucking hurt me tonight. Way more than this.” He points to the cut on his face.

“I—we--- missed you so fucking much while you were in New York this summer. We talked about you all the time. ‘Oh, when Y/N gets back maybe we can take her here.’ Or ‘Yeah, I think Y/N would enjoy this.’ Then you come back and we take fucking care of you yet it’s not enough?!” He sighs as Eddie enters the room again. “I’m sorry we apparently haven’t been clear enough about how much we fucking like you. Or maybe we made a mistake in trying this you because WE aren’t enough.”

You felt like absolute garbage. Steve was right. Since you had come home, they had done so much for you, showing you time and again how much they cared for you. Yeah, they didn’t parade you around school but they did spend time with you there; Steve sitting with you and befriending Masie while Eddie had even invited you to watch him and his friends play D & D in their Hellfire club. Literally the alternative would be to smack a name tag on you showing that they owned you. How had you never noticed before?

Eddie sat by your side as he removed the tape and tossed it on the floor. “Have you ever heard of the stop light system?” You shook your head as the tears cascaded down your face. “Green is good, Yellow is slow down, and usually Red is stop but in our case it’s Vanilla. So for example, right now, I’m seeing you cry like that and it’s scaring me a bit so I’m going to ask you what color you feel you are at right now.”

You wipe your face, turning to face him. “Green, Sir. I just… I feel so selfish.”

Eddie nods as he reaches for your wrists and clicks a set of handcuffs around one of them. “Too tight?”

“No, Sir. Thank you.”

He lifts your dress over your head before guiding you back against the pillows and chaining you to Steve’s headboard. His fingers gently remove your shoes tossing your clothes to the floor.

His palms run down your skin as he watches your face.

“Why do you feel selfish, little girl?”

“Because…Daddy is right. You both…have—”

While you were speaking, Eddie had slid his hand between your legs and had began pressing slow circle into your clit.

“Go on.”

“You both h-h-have been good to me—mmm—since I got hom-m-me.” He had gradually picked up his pace making you moan. “Why?”

“Why have we been good to you?”

You shook your head. “Why are you—mmm—making me f-feel good?”

“Good question, Munson.”, Steve squinted towards his friend.

“Watch the master work, Harrington.”, he winks. “Speaking off, can you grab the thing in my backpack. You’ll know it when you see it.” He chuckles as your body trembles and you cum. “I got the idea when I fucked her on our D &D table and that night we were trying not to bore her. I did some research and apparently, it’s very effective.”

“Eddie…please…”, you beg. You know where he’s headed with this. Rolling his eyes, he smacks you lightly across the face. “I’m sorry, Sir.”

“Still fucking apologizing instead of just listening the first time and following the fucking rules.” Eddie thanks Steve as he hands him a white wand. “I had to go two hours outside of Hawkins to buy this thing. This town is so closed minded, I swear. Now this, little girl, is wand. Makes sense, I mean it looks like one.” He displays it in front of you as the other boy plugs it into the socket by the wall.

The metalhead pushes a button and it vibrates to life. “Now like most wands, this thing is magic.” He abruptly presses to your clit and you cry out at the feeling, your eyes promptly rolling back. “Supposedly, Stevie, this little vibrator is guaranteed to make someone cum hard every…single…time.” Between each word he pushes the device aggressively against you.

They giggle as you pull against your restraints, your feet kicking nothing as you cum faster and harder than you ever had before. Three orgasms later and you body feels completely worn out.

“Sir…please…it’s too much.”

“Aw poor baby. Is this too intense for your little pussy to take?” Eddie laughs as you nod. “Steve, why don’t you give her something else to focus on.”

The boy grins as he removes his shirt and takes off his pants with his boxers before crawling on the bed above your head.

“Can your hands still tap the headboard?”

“Yes, Daddy.” The metal clanks as you adjust your wrists slightly and prominently smack it with your palm.

“Good girl. If you need to stop or get our attention just tap twice.” As soon as you confirm, he straddles his knees just above your shoulders, tapping your lips with his cock. “Open your mouth.” You do as he commands, bobbing your head as he groans.

Eddie collects some of the slick between your folds, making you moan around Steve as he pushes two of his fingers deep inside of you.

“God damn. You’re so fucking tight right now, sweetheart. Fuck. I can’t wait to stretch you open.”

Steve grips your hair in his fingers. “Flatten your tongue. That’s it. Just like that.” His eyes squeeze shut as he pants out moans, thrusting in small motions as you gag around him.

“Tonight, Y/N, we’re going to show you what Billy thought he was man enough to do.” The metalhead presses the wand on your bundle of nerves as he pumps his fingers into you. “We are the real men that can take care of and handle a woman like you. After tonight there will never be a fucking doubt in your mind.”

Steve felt your moans vibrate around him as you began to climax again, holding your head still as your throat practically closed around him. You coughed as he released you, shimmying his body till he was straddling your hips. He wiped your face with his arm as he scanned you for any signs of discomfort. “C-color?” The boy wasn’t used to asking yet, making a mental note to ask Eddie more questions about things like this later.

“Green, Daddy.” Your gravel filled voice was just making him harder; if it’s possible.

A now naked Eddie pushed Steve’s shoulder, signaling for him to get on the other side of you. He turns you on to your side facing him, lifting your leg over his waist. His lips passionately kiss yours as his hand holds the back of your neck. You whimper, feeling his cock breach your sex.

Your pussy clenches around him as you watch his mouth fall open in a silent moan as he slowly thrusts his hips, feeling you grip him tightly.

Eddie tries to keep his eyes open as you lean your forehead on his when Steve runs his dick along your ass. The metalhead brings your mouth to this again, holding you to him as he feels you wince, the other man entering your body. “You’re ok. You’re ok, baby.”, he whispers as you tug against your restraints. “Good girl. Such a good fucking girl. Taking us both. I told you; no one will ever make you feel this good.” He gradually began picking up his pace as Steve began to do the same.

“He told me—fuck—about us falling asleep inside you. Maybe next time—mmm—you fucking behave we can…we can do that. God damn, Y/N.”

Steve hadn’t said a word but his grunts were music to your ears. His arms had wrapped around to your front, massaging your breasts as he occasionally kissed and sucked on your shoulder.

The pain had long subsided and all that was left was the overwhelming pleasure of having them inside of you, hitting all the right places as they stretched you open.

As you came, you screamed, feeling like your body was going to explode into a million pieces. Eddie followed, unable to hold back any longer as he hugged your head to his chest and released inside of you. Steve’s fingers dug into your hips as he held you, climaxing with a strangled grunt as his forehead pressed to your back.

You three laid still for awhile until you couldn’t take the soreness in your arms any longer. “Eddie…”, you whimpered. The sound of his name caused his head to shoot up at attention. “My wrists hurt.”

“Shit. Baby, ok, let me…” He held your waist as he pulled out of you, reaching above you to click you free. “Y/N, you said they weren’t tight.” You followed his eyes to where you had deep red indents on your skin.

“They weren’t. Maybe I pulled on ‘em to hard.”, you pout. Your breath stutters as Steve carefully pulls out of you as well and slides off the bed.

“Ed, go ahead and get a bath going. I’ll be right back.”

“Can you walk, sweetheart?”

“Yeah…just not very fast.”

He grins as he takes your hand and helps you off the mattress, guiding you towards the bathroom. “Well shit. Either Harrington is testing out new body washes or he got these for you.” A nice delicate smell fills the room as Eddie pours some of the liquid into the water.

“I didn’t know what kind you liked so I just got what I thought smelled good.”, Steve came in with some bandages and an ice pack in his hands. “If you hate it just tell me—”

“No! I love it. What is it?”

His eyes light up a bit at your smile. “Um, it’s supposed to smell like the beach.”

“I’ve never been to the beach.”

“We’ll have to rectify that, immediately. Climb in, princess.” He reaches for your hand but you fold your arms tightly around your body. “What’s wrong?”

“I…I want to ask you both to sit with me but…I don’t think I deserve it.”

Eddie’s fingers lift your chin as he flashes you a comforting smile. “Nice to know meek Y/N IS still in there somewhere. Ask us, baby. Like you need it.”

“I do need it. Will you please sit with me?”

He reaches for your hand again as he climbs into the tub and you follow. Steve does the same, shifting the items in his hands as he places them on the side. You flinch as Eddie cleans you, leaning against his chest as you burrow into his neck making him chuckle.

“I may just settle for scarfs or ribbons or something because this?” He holds up your arms to display your wrists. “I don’t like this.”

“I didn’t even realize…”

Steve places the ice pack on them and you hiss at the cold. A comfortable silence falls between you three as Eddie traces his finger along your back and down your arms.

“I’m sorry… for everything. You’re right. I mean even if we didn’t have this.”, you gesture between you. “You do a lot for me and I have so much fun with you guys outside of the bedroom. I don’t know, I guess I just hate that guys like Billy feel like they can hit on me freely and vice versa.”

You reached for the antiseptic Steve had brought and leaned forward to clean the cut on his face, feeling his eyes scanning over you as he heavily sighs. “I’m sorry if we made you feel like you don’t deserve to be seen. We just thought since this is so unorthodox, you’d want to keep it a secret but Y/N, I don’t hide that I like spending time with you or that you’re my friend. I was telling someone the other day about that creepy fucking movie we saw.”

“Oh my god, Harrington. Calm down. It wasn’t even that bad.”

“Munson, the dude pulled a guy THROUGH his bed and tossed back his blood. What the fuck?!”

You giggled as you placed the tiny Band-Aid over his cut. “Evil Dead is much worse.”

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

“Hm, debatable.”

“I told the Hellfire guys about the concert we went to.”, Eddie grinned as you leaned back against his chest. “Next month, Poison is coming to town and they said we should all go. I, um, I don’t actually have a lot of people to tell or talk to but, um, Wayne wants to meet you one of these days.”

Your own grin grows as the remaining tension leaves the air.

“Can I ask you something before we pretend that you never went on a date with Billy Hargrove?” Steve smiles as you laugh and nod. “I have to know…is his kissing like God’s gift to mankind?”

“Dear Lord, no. That was one of, if not, the worst kiss I’ve ever experienced and I’m not just saying that! It was like…kissing an aggressive ashtray.”

They both cackle as you wrap Eddie’s arms around you and place your legs in Steve’s lap.

@manda-panda-monium @sherrylyn628 @local-stoner-bitch

“Well, thank goodness he’s pretty then.”

#################

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@sidthedollface2 @mandyjo8719 @bexreastoomuch

@chelebelletx @shayeddie @emmalee-01 @anaibis

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thedeviltohisangel · 8 months ago

Note

”you’re mine” with brat tamer john and brat! Cass?

DROP TO MY KNEES BLURB PROMPT ERA

the official welcome of cheese egan? also a little bit of married with kids when do we have time for each other angst because they can't be perfect all the time as much as we want them to be. also HANDYMAN JOHN. that is all.

John sighed deeply as the door to his shed closed behind him, his back pressed against the wood. "We made it," he whispered to the little cat that was looking up at him for acknowledgement. As soon as Cheese confirmed John knew he was there too, he pranced off to the windowsill by his worktable and curled up happily.

The evening in the Egan household had felt like it came from hell. The twins had been arguing about something that had happened during recess ever since Joan had picked them up from school. Lillian had been ornery the minute John walked in the door before Cass, the four-year-old not in the mood for her father in the slightest. And then there was the matter of Imogene. She had decided that her father was the only thing she wanted.

His wife had gotten home late. So late that the kids were already in bed. So late that John had been drooping against the couch cushions in an attempt to stay awake to see her. But she had been in no mood to see him apparently. Barely acknowledged him as she walked towards the kitchen with Butter trailing after her gleefully.

"How was work, baby?" he asked as he followed her, scratching at his stomach and stretching in a yawn. Her fingers were behind Butter's ears and he was looking at John like he knew the man hadn't gotten a kiss yet.

"Fine. Long." Her nose scrunched at the options in the fridge so she settled on an apple on the counter for dinner instead. "Babies asleep?"

"Should be. They were little terrors tonight." Cass hummed around her apple and reached to grab a dog treat from the cabinet. "I didn't know you were going to be so far behind tonight. Could have had Mary call."

"I'm not doing this right now. I'm going to bed," she offered with a roll of her eyes.

"You didn't even kiss me hello," he muttered as Cheese hopped onto the counter next to him. He used the height to look down at Butter with an assessing swish of his tail.

"Maybe I'm just not in the mood tonight, John," she snapped as she moved to head up the stairs.

"Jesus, Cass, that's not-" But her and Butter were already disappearing down the hall and out of his view.

His shed was where he went to tinker. Fix the kid's toys if they played too rough. Fix Gale's glasses when they got ruined at baseball practice. Mend Cass' jewelry if it got tangled or snapped with a tug from the babies or even when John got too rough some nights. It was also where he had found Cheese. His little orange ball of fluff of a best friend. Cheese was quiet and contemplative and looked at John like he knew what he was thinking. The kids loved him too. Penelope had made a fishing pole toy for him during art class that they spent hours fiddling with in the living room. Butter and Cheese had a general respect and didn't fight. But they knew they each cherished different parents.

"Are you coming to bed tonight?" He didn't look over his shoulder as the door opened and his wife spoke. "It's so annoying when you come and hide out here like this."

"Thought you weren't in the mood tonight." He still wasn't looking at her. She huffed and stomped over to where he sat, peeking over his shoulder. He had thin pliers in his hand working on the broken clasp of her bracelet the twins had picked out for Mother's Day last year. It had snapped when Cass had built a pillow fort with them and it caught in their wrestling match. A bit of her anger subsided at the softness of his heart.

"I'm not." Her aloof tone remained. "Cheese, have sweet dreams." She turned to go but his hand wrapped around her wrist. He stood and she craned her neck to look up at him. Sometimes she forgot how imposing her husband could be when he chose to use his size as a weapon.

"Brats don't get to come and go as they please." She bit her lip. "Cassandra Ann...Cassandra Ann...what's your surname again?" He moved forward and she moved back until she hit the door of his shed.

"Egan," she breathed.

"And who gave you that name?"

"You did." Her eyes were molten as his attention broke her foul mood. When would she learn to never push him away?

"Because you're mine. All mine. And you haven't shown how thankful you are for that tonight."

"Please, Colonel, let me apologize." The palm of his hand landed on her shoulder and pushed until her knees were on the floor. She let her smirk flash for just a second.

Easy as Sunday morning.

#john egan #john egan fanfiction #john egan x oc #masters of the air #masters of the air fanfiction #answered #cass and bucky #callum turner

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kiweegamez · 3 months ago

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LAMIA REDESIGN

(I DID IT FINALLY)

There were 3 deathless creatures made by an upper being, they were the first fauns, rumoured to be named Tanu (Black Faun), Raloi (Blonde Faun), and Lamia (Snow fur faun). Tanu the faun god of night and fear, Raloi the Faun goddess of the sun and beauty, And Lamia the faun Goddess of the cold and destruction.

Raloi always would crave attention being her downfall, as the higher beings (main Greek gods and goddesses) was displeased with her unfaithful acts, so she ‘disappeared’. It’s rumoured that she was turned into a goat and trapped in stone deep in the forest.

Tanu could never sleep, and when night would come out, he would watch over the many villages, some say he painted the night sky with stars. They say if you see a shooting star it was Tanu running across the sky, leaping from star to star and a meteor shower was him guiding spirits to their final destination.

Then Lamia, the oh ‘mighty’ Ram of destruction. Despite she’s a goat like the others there was a major misconception with early civilisations seeing the ‘mini’ goddess they didn’t exactly know what a goat was. So she got THAT title, which she hates. But she’s used to it by now.

She is the goddess of ice and destruction, often being shown on side with Ares as war cannot happen without destruction and bloodshed. Lamia cannot swim, as the water around her hooves freezes over, think of Elsa when she walks on water. Hence why when people who saw a trail of stray ice across bodies of water they would say it was Lamia coming from the battle of the great. (Whatever that is) One time when she was much younger she had fallen into the water, trying to break through the thick ice, struggling for hours. She remembers seeing two large eyes in the darkness of the deep sea, she still hears his voice… Before calling on her weapon ‘Kóptis’ bursting from the ice and clambering onto it the hole she had just emerged from had already frozen over. She had hidden from humanity in the depths of the snowy tundras, now a rarely known Goddess, yet some small civilisations still plead and bring offerings under her name to her little altars in their territories. Wishing for protection and the destruction of their enemies if they were to engage with war. She also avoids hot weather since she has thick hair, built for living in the snow or cool temperatures.

She easily eats meat, including goat, but tries to keep a balanced diet. (Omnivore)

ALT

(WEAPON UNDER CONSTRUCTION! :D) Kóptis is a 7”ft long crosscut saw blade on a long staff with a firm handle having 3 curved in claws on the back, a pale white permanent ice growth coming from the blade having a faint fog, the blade itself a steel colour with inward cuts that could do some damage if needed, the blade having some black patterns along it. It weighs around 37lbs it’s heavier at the tip due to ice growth.

How she lifts it is a marvel given her size, while most mortals would struggle to carry a weapon of this build on the field, she makes it work. She can spear it into the ground causing a burst of ice spikes originating from the puncture point. She can also stand on the claws at the end with one hoof, usually perching like this when surveilling the area or waiting for the tides of war nearby.

She also unexpectedly strong for her small size, so yes, quite literally the gag of the tiny character that will slam another character from side to side. Also you best believe she will ram the living soul out of you.

She does not have any children, she is still antisocial after who knows how many years of living. In her young godhood despite what she was the goddess of she was stupidly shy. Therefore Ares had to get involved to train her, leading to them having a sibling like bond. (Imagine Athena) But now this lil goddess has a short temper, being easy to trigger. Which other gods and goddesses will use to get a rile out of her.

The only two gods she would willingly talk to is either Ares or Dionysus, while she will gladly listen to Aphrodite give her the latest God and Goddess gossip, sometimes Aphrodite will start playing with her hair.

She wouldn’t even go near Poseidon since the whole water thing since she thinks he automatically hates her existence for absolutely no reason and plus water so yeah, however after meeting each other at one of the winter solstice’s, she was being clammed up by a pedestal, but Zeus had noticed this and teased Poseidon to no end calling him a ‘lone wolf’ and eventually irritated Poseidon enough to approach Lamia. The two though they won’t admit it to others had a few common interests, and they actually bonded. She would go to a cliff by the sea to meet up with him time from time, since it was the easiest and most isolated spot for them both.

Also she cannot STAND Apollo, so she would be very reluctant and stubborn to go to Apollo’s hospital somewhere in Olympus even if she did look like Swiss cheese, Apollo also teases her if she does end up getting dragged through by force. Usually mocking her about her injuries or how she’s supposed to be ‘soooo tough’ adding fuel to their already raging fire. Ares usually has to hold her back like a child, which is comical to say the least.

She will also often engage in the battles she was called in but only a little since it’s not exactly fair for mortals to fight against a goddess, unless she’s in a bad mood then she’s gonna sweep ya’ll away with the sharp edges of her weapon.

Her favoured offerings are; lingon berries, Cinderella pumpkins, sweet/black wines, the 7th rib of a goat, or the hallowed horn of the goats(the ones you can blow into)

(She sounds like Morgan Clae because why not, you know that after existing for so long she will sing like a Disney princess if she’s alone and the voices are getting to her.)

Also I imagine if she was in Epic she would appear during Poseidon’s song as I imagine they would be that random power couple that somehow happened despite she mostly is still afraid of the water, but she’s willing to be brave for Poseidon.

HER ARMOUR IS HERE!

Lamia’s pride is held high by her armour, keeping it as clean as she can in her spare time. She is not afraid to get physical though. Her armour is quite heavy which is confusing for others considering how agile she is in her armour. As the picture states, when she wears her helmet her voice drastically deepens sounding a lot like Ares, so they get a little kick out of it when they can. She went through many reshapings of her chassis with Hephaestus as she wanted her tail to be hidden as she doesn’t like others seeing it. So it was either too short or too big, eventually getting it right in the end. Hephaestus somewhat likes her as a friend, but she often wants to test his weapons which he won’t allow, and he knows that if she visits his forge she’s done something to ruin her armour.

OG DESIGN AND POST:

Normal voice: Morgan Clae

youtube

helmeted voice: Lord dominator (masked) (closest I could find to Ares at the moment without it just being literal Ares lmao)

youtube

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hannibals-favourite-meal · 1 year ago

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.⋆｡His Weakness｡⋆.

Kylo Ren x plus size reader

His Choice Masterlist

She was gone, taken and he would rip the universe apart just to get her back

Chapter Warnings: smut, size kink, d/s dynamics, blood, anger, angst, fear, softness, bath sex, oral (f receiving), guilt, death, Kylo is not a good dude my guys but he's doing his best, reader gets a spine in this chapter, m masturbation, these two are toxic

WC: 5.3k

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

Part 1

It all felt like a strange dream. She floated in space, weightlessness cocooned her in a comforting embrace. And yet fear simmered beneath the surface of her skin, poking and prodding at her, refusing to let her drift into the calmness of her unconscious mind.

Her heartbeat was loud in her ears and her back, her body thumping in time like a great drum being beaten upon in her chest. She wiggled her toes but there was no sensation of anything against her feet, no wind or silk sheets, just warmth. There was something around her face, forcing cold, sterile air into her lungs. It was hard, a sharp corner bit into her cheek, causing a sharp pinch when she moved her head. She tried to open her eyes but her body refused to comply.

Muffled voices carried through the space around her, the words garbled and distorted, further pulling her from the peaceful feeling of sleep. There was a thud that shook her whole body and suddenly the warmth disappeared as gravity began to tug her down once more. Two thick straps of fabric, one under each armpit, kept her suspended.

The sensations hit her all at once, making her suck in a breath but the mask on her face didn’t allow this so she began to choke. The voices began to panic and the mask was ripped off. Y/N coughed and spluttered, desperately trying to breathe. Hands gripped at her naked legs, pulling her down to the grated floor below her.

Her knees collided painfully with the ground as her breath and her vision gradually returned to her. Bright white lights blinded her for a moment before everything became clear. Two men and a woman stood over her with the emotions on their face ranging from pity to disgust.

“What are you all doing? Get her up.” The voice came from behind them, immediately spurring the younger man into action. With a surprisingly gentle touch, he lifted her to her feet, supporting her weight with an arm around her torso.

An older woman stood away from the small group- she was shorter than the others but the sheer power her body held made her look like a giant. If she didn’t have a blaster strapped to her hip, she could have very easily appeared matriarchal and kind. Yet her eyes were what caught Y/N’s attention, they were so familiar it made her chest ache.

“I am sorry that we could not fully heal your injuries but you must understand that we have to preserve our bacta for our own people.” Y/N was guided to the lone bed in the room and forced to sit on its edge, the man stepping away once more. His eyes were strangely filled with empathy. “The cuts will scar but you aren’t at risk of infection anymore.”

“We should’ve just left her rotting in a cell.” The older man grumbled, rolling his eyes causing the other woman to scoff.

“She’s just as much of a victim of him as you are.” A chill blew into the room but the tension was quickly shattered as the one beside Y/N spoke up.

“Maybe we should wait outside while the General talks to her.” He grabbed the other man by the arm and practically dragged him out, the young woman following close behind, their gazes still locked together. The door slid silently closed behind them, leaving only Y/N and the ‘General’.

She sighed and turned towards a cabinet, pulling out some folded fabric. “Put this on.” Only now, Y/N noticed her state of undress- wearing only a breast band and some shorts that did nothing to hide the curve of her body. She took the offered clothes and quickly dressed in the thin gown, thankful for some decency.

“Where am I?” Her voice was squeaky, a result of the dry air she had been breathing for stars knew how long.

“I can’t tell you exactly, I’m sure you’d understand but you are safe, that is what I can tell you.”

Y/N’s eyes narrowed. “I assume you’re using me to get some advantage over the First Order.” Her grip tightened on the cane in her hand, her knuckles going pale. “Or is it that you want to hurt him?” The left side of her mouth twitched.

“You are a victim of the First Order’s cruelty, I am giving you an opportunity to prevent others from suffering the same fate.” Y/N remained silent, the woman sighed heavily. “Any information you can give us would be valuable. You will be rewarded.”

“With what? My death warrant?” She hissed. “The rebels cannot protect me from them, from him. You are already half-dead, barely protecting your own pathetic outposts. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll leave me somewhere he can find me easily, then maybe he won’t rip you all to pieces.”

The General scowled and a realisation dawned on the young woman. “I know that look. You know, he looks exactly the same when someone pisses him off. You must be his mo-“

“That’s enough!” The room lit up, rippling with power. It was far less than what Kylo was capable of, but she knew the Force when she felt it. “I can see now that you need to be alone, to rethink your priorities. Someone will come speak to you in a few days.”

The lock clicked into place behind her, leaving Y/N alone once more but she had a smile on her face. Even if there was a high possibility that her master would not come for her, she had found the weakness in their ranks.

——————

Y/N figured that she was most likely on a larger transport ship. It would have to be small enough not to be spotted by the Order but large enough that it would allow her to be housed in an infirmary bay by herself. The room was almost entirely barren of supplies, and in some places, the metal siding of the walls had been stripped away, she presumed for extra parts for repairs.

They had not gone into hyperdrive while she had been awake so they could not have been far from the Star Destroyer she had been calling home. And considering that the cuts on her back were only just at the stage of scarring, her time in the bacta tank had to have been less than an hour.

A few rebels had come and gone, each trying their hand at prying information from her, but she had remained silent. They were quickly becoming desperate for anything. One even asked her what material the First Order used for the clothes she had been given.

There were moments where she had been tempted to divulge what she knew- when she remembered his cruelty and the way he hurt her but just as quickly, she’d recall his soft touch, his praise, his generosity. In those moments, she found that her fingers would curl into the collar that still hung around her neck.

She wished that he would come for her, she wished he would leave her alone. She wanted to be in his arms, she wanted to be so far away from him that he would never find her, no matter how hard he looked.

When she awoke from a very light sleep on her third day of captivity, she had made up her mind.

The panel by the door was bent just enough that Y/N could slip her index and middle finger inside it even while she held a long screw she found under the bed. The metal shook as she struggled to hold onto it with her fingertips. She cringed each time it hit the panel, producing a soft clink each time. “Come one.” She murmured under her breath as she attempted to stabilise the screw.

A hopeful smile began to grow on her lips as she felt it bump against something semi-soft. If she were to guess, it would have to be one of the cables connecting to the door, or she could be completely wrong and it was just her mind playing tricks on her but she had to take a chance.

Wedging her hand into the gap as far as she could, she readjusted her hold on the screw so the end tipped down over the cable. Quickly, her middle finger curled around the end while her index finger kept a hold of the top. Once she was sure that she had a good grip, she yanked her hand back out, yanking the wire out of place.

There was a spark and the lights above her flickered for a moment before the shut off completely. She held her breath as she stood and approached the door. Placing her palms flat against either side of the crack in the door, she pushed them apart.

The metal groaned in protest as she added more of her weight behind them until they finally gave way, opening just wide enough for her to force her way through.

Unable to help herself, she gave a soft shout of victory before whipping her head around. The hall was empty, suspiciously so. She looked left, then right, taking a chance, she headed down the hall to her left, hoping it would get her to the escape pods. Her bare feet slapped against the floor almost silently as she walked.

From behind her, she could vaguely hear what sounded like shouting and a distant buzz which was interrupted by a dangerous crackle every few seconds. Y/N hurried along her path, blocking out the noise. Her only concern was getting as far away from this ship as possible.

She took a sharp left into a larger hallway, picking up her pace as screams soon began to echo through the ship. A bright light guided her way, urging her to go faster and faster, the crackling getting louder with each step.

Her lungs burned and her legs ached but she was getting closer to the end, the light getting brighter until it all went dark. She froze at the end of the hall. There was a huge window in front of her that had been the source of the illumination. It overlooked a massive cargo hold that was now totally empty. The hanger doors were gone, quite obviously having been blasted through by a much larger ship.

The light that she had been seeing was a series of flares that were now mostly burnt out, leaving one or two left that floated around aimlessly.

It was a dead end.

Quickly, she began to back peddle, her new path drawing her closer to the screams. In her mind, people would be running away, towards the escape pods so if she encountered them at just the right time, she might be able to blend into the panicked throng and get away cleanly. She refused to think about who caused the destruction in the hanger and the fear that permeated the filtered air.

Step, step, pause. Breathe, listen. Step, step, pause.

Y/N kept the stuttering pace even as the screams died down. “Where is she!” A voice thundered so powerfully, the modulator layered over it cracked. She flinched and shoved herself against the wall beside her.

“Please no!” Another voice begged but was quickly cut off by that same crackling she heard earlier. The voice went silent. A thought burrowed its way into her mind- the voice could be him, he could’ve come for her. But she shook it off. He wouldn’t come for her, not after what he did.

Her eyes flicked down to the ground right before she was about to take another step, and that’s when she noticed the blood. It pooled on the reflective surface, dulling the reflections of the overhead lights. She gasped behind her hand as she finally spotted the first body.

He had been torn to shreds, his flesh almost completely seared off. His eyes bulged out of his skull in a cartoonish manner. Y/N quickly looked away, choking down the bile that had risen to the back of her throat.

She stepped around the blood as best she could while eyeing the hall just across from her that seemed to lead to yet another hanger and it was thankfully in the opposite direction from the angry voice. She glanced quickly towards the other direction and then made a run for it.

“Y/N!” Automatically, she froze. Her name sounded so foreign in his voice but at the same time, it settled onto her chest, warming that place which had been frozen since she had been stolen from her home so long ago.

Her mind battled itself, both wishing that it was just an auditory hallucination from trauma and so desperately wishing that he was actually there. “Pet-“ He stopped himself. “Y/N please, I’ve been looking for you for so long. Please come back.”

He was begging her, his voice now soft and almost loving. She could feel him getting closer, the shadow of his huge physique looming over her. “Did you kill everyone on board?”

“Yes.” He answered bluntly.

“Why?” She finally turned to look at him. Kylo’s shoulders were simultaneously slumped and tense with rage. He held tightly to the hilt of his lightsaber though it was no longer lit. She expected him to be wearing his mask but the red streaks through the black material were new.

He took a chance and stepped closer. “I would kill worlds to get you back.” Much to her shame, Y/N swooned internally.

“But your moth-“ She began but stopped when his free hand clenched into a fist.

“General Organa nor her little followers were here, just some insignificant worms who knew nothing.” She expected him to lash out but instead, his fingers unfurled from the palm of his hand and he offered it to her. “None of that matters now, just come home.”

She did not hesitate to take his hand.

——————

Part 2

The tension aboard the Star Destroyer was almost unbearable. Not only was the Star Killer completely destroyed and new pressure added to Kylo to hunt down Skywalker and Rey, but there was also the issue of Y/N.

They danced around each other with far less grace than either hoped. Frequently, Kylo found himself reaching out to touch her in her most intimate of places, wishing to feel her warmth around him once more but would pull away just as quickly when he recalled the terrified screams that still haunted his thoughts. And when Y/N would change or slip into the shower, she would always look back, expecting a large hand to cup her naked hip as his lips descended upon her throat.

He never slept in the bed with her, she never asked about his day. They were suspended in time, waiting for one of them to break, to finally shatter the delusion they were existing in.

With her return to the Destroyer, Kylo had granted Y/N a small extra freedom- once a day, she could go for a small walk through the ship. Granted, she would be accompanied by two of his most trusted stormtroopers and at most, the walk would be 15 minutes long, but she was excited about it anyway.

When she left for her walk on this particular day, Kylo had already been gone- summoned for a council with his master. She had noticed the slight tremor in his hands as he took his helmet from its place beside the door, but made no comment on it, simply acknowledging his quick ‘be good’ with a soft nod of her head.

Her guards arrived a few minutes after his departure (she assumed they were waiting around the corner so they didn’t have to encounter the sith) and she soon followed behind him.

The ship was far more busy than usual, yet no eyes followed her as she walked. Apparently in the couple days she had been gone, all of the First Order seemingly had been conditioned to treat her with the same respect given to the high command.

Her walk was pleasant, she even got one of her guards to speak to her this time, but all-too-soon she was returned to their chambers and met with an unexpected sight.

Kylo sat on their bed, his back against the headboard. He was shirtless, his black hair loose and falling over his face, moving with the force of his breaths. The dark trousers he always wore were open and pulled part way down his muscular thighs, revealing the way one of his huge hands was wrapped around his hard cock.

His brows were pinched and his lips downturned like he was angry, this was only compounded by the growls he released when his fist met the thatch of hair at the base of his pelvis. “Fuck.” He half-moaned, head falling back with a painful sounding thud.

Y/N swallowed thickly as the doors slid closed behind her. Ever since that night, he had not touched her, he hadn’t even given a hint that he was interested in sex until this very moment. And even as the scars on her back throbbed, reminding her of exactly why she should turn away and leave, she found herself rooted to the spot, watching with rapt attention as he furiously fisted his cock.

“Y/N.” She jolted with his whine of her name, heat pooling between her legs.

“Master.” She responded, practically cooing at him. Kylo’s eyes flew open and she didn’t miss the way his cock throbbed as he spotted her. He held her gaze as she slowly approached the bed, barely breathing until she placed a hand gently upon his thigh.

His wide chest puffed up as he sucked in a breath, her hand moving closer to his cock. She began to lean in, her eyes dropping to his lips before flicking back up to his dark eyes.

The tension that had been steadily growing since he brought her home was almost stifling now, so thick that she felt she could choke on it. They were still waiting for that moment where it would explode and as Y/N’s breath fanned across his lips, Kylo’s resolve broke into a million tiny pieces.

His arms darted out and she quickly found herself in his lap, dress hitched over the top of her thighs so that his cock could rest upon the soft mound of her cunt. Their lips met in a messy but passionate kiss, tongues tangled as their teeth clacked together. The hand that previously gripped himself now held onto her naked thigh, the tips of his fingers digging into the plush flesh as his other hand slid to her ass.

She moaned into his mouth, pushing her hips forward into his own. Heat grew wildly between them as he began to guide her grinding but not directly taking the lead. She felt his lips quirk with a smile when she gasped.

Slowly his hand trailed from her ass to up beneath her dress, tracing the curve of her spine. Her arms wrapped around his neck, encouraging his touch until he stopped moving. His fingers brushed against the raised lines of her scars, his face becoming confused just for a moment before he violently pulled away.

“Stop.” There was an almost imperceptible treble to his voice as he spoke, turning his head away from her. She slid from his lap and onto the bed, confused. “I have to go.” He shoved himself back into his trousers and retrieved his shirt from the floor.

As he redressed, Y/N was suddenly back in that moment, the pain and the fear flashing behind her eyes. “Don’t go please.” She begged, trying to follow him. “Don’t leave me alone again.”

He looked back at her with an expression of pure devastation which quickly morphed into a fragile mask of anger. “You’re my pet, not my wife. I can do whatever I want with you, including leaving you here.” And he left.

But this time, Y/N didn’t stay.

She sprang from the bed and raced after the sith, determined to break through his facade. “Kylo!” She angrily called as she ran. “Fucking stop!” The eyes of dozens of First Orders soldiers followed her, watching in morbid fashion as she challenged one of the most dangerous men in the galaxy but they did not dare to stop her.

She was finally able to catch up to him when he turned to his private sparring room. “What is wrong with you?” She hissed, coming to a stop a metre away from him.

He didn’t respond. “First you buy me to be your slave but then you pleasure me too. You reward me and then you literally rip me apart. And then you kill a whole fucking ship of rebels because it meant getting me back but you’re leaving me again. You’re so fucking confusing and I honestly don’t understand you, so just tell me why!”

“Because I hurt you!” He screamed, the walls he had so carefully built falling to dust at her feet. “Because I was fucking selfish and forced you to become mine like some twisted old man. But I couldn’t stop. You are so good and soft and so fucking kind when you shouldn’t be! You should be plotting to kill me in my sleep and fighting me every chance you get but you don’t. You cared for me and listened to me.” Y/N’s eyes burned with tears that built along her waterline. Kylo stepped closer, his head bowed like a naughty child that had just gotten caught doing something he shouldn’t.

“And then you ran from me. You joined the rebels. But when I came for you, you let me take you home. You let me touch you even after what I did. So leave. Please. I don’t want to hurt you again.” He turned away from her, desperate to hide how his own tears spilled over his pale cheeks.

“Kylo.” She murmured, chancing a step closer. His body went stiff as her fingers grazed his back but he did not move away. “Kylo.” She repeated, her voice a little firmer this time. Her touch moved to the back of his neck, cupping the warm flesh just hard enough to guide his attention back to her.

“Go, just go. I cannot hold myself back any longer.” But his tone was defeated, carrying no real conviction or malice. He lets her move his head so now their faces are only inches apart. With a touch so gentle, he barely feels it, she holds his strong jaw, her thumbs finding their place just beneath his cheekbones.

“I’m not letting you leave again.” He doesn’t resist as she kisses him though she can tell he’s fighting it. His eyes are screwed shut, his hands balled into fists by his side but as she relaxes into the kiss, her tongue sweeping across his bottom lip, he concedes. She smiled against his lips as his arms wound around her thick waist, pulling her impossibly close to his body like she was the only thing keeping him tied to the ground.

“You bought me, now you have to keep me forever.” She teased, making him growl into her mouth. One of his hands pulled away from her torso and made a grab for her neck, expertly diving under her collar. There was a click and then the metal fell away, colliding onto the floor with a deafening clang.

“I do not want to own you, not anymore. You should be free to decide what you wish.” He said it like he was expecting her to run the moment that his ownership over her was stripped away, but instead she pushed her hips up and into him, her soft stomach now firmly pressed against his hard cock.

“Then I wish to stay… with you.” She yelped as he suddenly gathered her up into his arms and kissed every inch of her face that he could reach. Her giggles carried through the room, lighting up the dark space with a happiness never seen there before.

As her laughter died down, her eyes grew dark with lust once more. “I want you.” His own gaze darts over her face, watching for any sign of a lie and when he found none, he kissed her once more.

Slowly, he lowered them both to the floor. His massive body providing a comforting weight on top of her, slotting himself between her plush thighs. She mewled as his lips travelled to the soft slope of her jaw, nipping and sucking at her skin, searing his marks into her.

“Kylo.” His kisses reached the spot upon her neck where her mind went fuzzy and her hands flew to his hair, burying themselves in the raven locks. He hummed against her skin as he licked at the spot again and again until her body went to liquid below him.

Then he moved on. He lathered the skin of her chest in kisses, moving her light green dress out of the way in order to get access to the fat of her tits. She squirmed against him, trying to roll her hips down into the thick muscle of his thighs. “Please I need more.” She begged.

Immediately, he complied. The skirt of her dress was thrown over her stomach and his shoulders wedged firmly beneath her thighs, letting her ankles cross behind his head. She thought she heard him whisper ‘anything for you’ but all thoughts flew from her mind as his kisses resumed again.

Her back bowed with pleasure. The tip of Kylo’s nose fit perfectly against her swollen clit as his tongue clumsily propped at her entrance. Planting his huge palms on the softness of her lower stomach, he pushed her back down, slipping his tongue into her at the same time. She moaned loudly with each curl of the muscle.

Her thighs locked around his head as the tip of his tongue hit that soft spot inside her that made her see stars. He groaned into her cunt, forcing his nose even tighter against her clit. “‘M gonna cum!” She cried before her orgasm washed over her, her vision whiting out with pleasure.

She clutched at his hands, whining his name over and over as he continued to torment her until she went boneless in his arms with a sigh. He licked up her release and pecked her inner thigh before finally pulling away, smirking proudly.

Silently, he pulled her dress back down over her body as she attempted to catch her breath. She reached for him which he eagerly indulged, dragging her limp body into his lap wrapping her up in his arms. Her head lolled against his shoulder, placing a sweet kiss upon his covered collarbone.

It was quickly followed by another, and then another until soon enough, her lips were attached to his neck in the same way he had been on her a mere few minutes ago. His cock twitched with excitement at her attention. “Pet, it’s ok. We do not need to go further if you are not comfortable.”

She pulled back only a few inches, just far enough to meet his eyes (which she noted were far more brown than the yellow she had been used to). “I want to, just maybe, we go slow?” She asked shyly. Kylo dipped down and kissed her gently.

“Whatever you want. Can you stand?” She gave him a withering look causing him to chuckle lowly. Readjusting her in his arms, he stood and made his way to the shower room attached to the gym. He ignored her questioning glance, placing her on the edge of the massive tub in the centre of the room.

Steam soon filled the small chamber as the tub began to fill. Kylo kissed along her arms and neck as he unbuttoned the front of her dress, letting it fall to the floor along with his own clothes. By the time they were both naked, the bath was filled enough for both of them.

With one last kiss, he slipped into the water, sighing as the heat washed over him, relaxing his tense muscles. He offered Y/N a hand, helping her into the tub in front of him. Her soft body fit beautifully between his legs, the curve of her back pressing against his solid torso. But that wasn’t enough for either of them.

On shaking legs, Y/N turned around on his lap and straddled his slim hips. Her lips caught his in a soft kiss as she rocked onto her knees, taking his cock into her hand. His eyes fluttered shut at her touch, not seeing the way she positioned his tip at her entrance until he was already partially inside of her. Kylo’s hands flew to her hips as she slowly sunk down onto him.

“Stars.” He moaned, his head rolling back between his shoulders. “So fucking tight.” She stayed still for a moment, adjusting to the sheer size of him.

“You’re just so big.” She mewled and Kylo groaned in response, his cock throbbing within her. “Can feel you in my stomach.” She emphasised by holding her plush tummy, pushing down on where his length pressed against her walls.

His hips bucked unconsciously and she moaned. Taking that as her cue to move lest her former owner take back control, she began to slowly bounce on her knees. Pleasure rolled through them both with each pass of her hips. Each time she took him to the hilt, the coarse hair along his pelvis brushed against her overstimulated clit, causing her to clench down onto him.

She leaned forward and pressed her lips against his but it was less of a kiss than the others they shared, and simply a distraction from the ever-growing climaxes they would soon experience. Her thighs burned as she rode him, struggling to accommodate the sheer mass of him but she kept going, wishing this moment could last forever.

Kylo moaned into her mouth, his hands clamping down onto her soft flesh. “Please please.” His abs tensed against her stomach as he began to meet her at the high of her thrusts. Her head fell to the crook of his neck as he took more control, now violently punching into her cunt, sending them both up higher and higher.

“Cum for me.” She whined. “I need it so bad.” She exploded around him just as he seized beneath her, filling her with his release. He thrust a few more times, milking both of their ends before he slumped back into the water, cradling her in his arms.

“Fuck.” He groaned and she giggled tiredly, kissing his neck.

“I agree.” He rubbed up and down her back as a comfortable silence settled over the pair. Until Y/N spoke again.

“About what you said earlier, I did not run away from you- the rebels took me. I was trying to find my way back to you but you found me first.” He froze beneath her.

Kylo sat up, his expression suddenly angry. “I was told that you had left willingly after-“ He swallowed thickly. “-After what I did.” Y/N looked up at him.

She shook her head. “The rebellion wouldn’t have been a safe place for me, I would’ve been better off leaving with a bounty hunter.” He hummed, slumping back into the bath yet the anger remained. “Who told you that I ran away?”

“It’s nothing you have to worry about, I will handle it.” He pecked her hair. “You never have to worry about anyone hurting you ever again.”

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