#I made myself laugh so I hope you will too

[dilf-docs]

This Thing Upon Me, Howls Like A Beast

professor!pedro pascal x younger!reader

summary: to cover some social hours and as a favor to your recently fallen-ill friend, you become your research methodology professor's TA. but here's the catch: you've got history, and what you really mean is beef; good, pure, unadulterated loath.

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, pwp, rivals to ??, hate sex, p. in v. (do i even wrap it atp), degradation kink, daddy kink, lwk exhibition kink bc this happens on his office (rip to the furniture), bit dom!pedro + brat taming (again?? stop it mayor we get itttt omg) sprinkled here and there, fingering, squirting, creampie (everyone got invited to the party), reader is a loud-mouth (who's this divaaa), pedro's kind of an asshole and a perv in this one (ooc sorry), don't expect a second part this is literally just self-fulfilling filth without a storyline

word count: 6,451 words

side note: hello! this won the poll. am i the only one with this fantasy? pls tell me not; i feel insane looking some of my professors like a fucking starved drooling dog. giggling as we speak, bc the movie's got everybody insane between marvel renaissance, gif dump, new content, husband!pedro material and professor wet dreams out there... this piece of work is the last. hope you enjoy it, citizens! ps. jin of bts makes an appearance bc i love my seven men and i'm currently sick so he is sick too lmao (ah pero para escribir cochinadas ahí sí estás sana verdad)

It's your fault, really, for opening it in the middle of the class. It was a link, and you should've saved it for later, but then your thumb clicked into the blue underlined text your friend sent, and the reel popped up on your screen.

Your laugh erupted before you could cover your mouth, your professors' words hanging mid-air.

"Who did that?"

Everyone looks at you. Those sell-out, ass-kissing, boot-licking dicks.

His eyebrows furrow until they seem to melt into one, a big angry scowl on Mr. Pascal's face.

"Something you'd like to share with the class, Ms. Y/n?"

His voice reverberates on the class' walls, sounding even scarier.

You shake your head, tone quiet as you let out a small, "No"

"No?" he repeats your words, mocking your insecure demeanor, "because with that loud ass laugh, it seemed like something important enough to dissrupt my class. So please, share. You can't leave us wondering in here"

People cough and avoid your gaze while you wish the building would collapse and kill everyone inside, you included. Oh, that would be good. But no, you're stuck on a space that now feels too small and his persistent gaze cuts right through you.

"I-It's not important-" you stumble over your words.

"Can't speak anymore? All that boldness, suddenly gone"

"Mr. Pascal" you plead. God, you had never even begged for anything in your life. But there's always a first.

"I said share" his voice menacing, like he's got not an ounce of sympathy in that sturdy body that could fit plenty. No, wait. Focus!

He grows impatient at your lack of movement, practically growling his next words:

"I won't repeat myself"

"I-I I don't know how to-" you cut yourself off, cringing at how pathetic you sound. "It's a video, so-"

"Then cast your phone and project it" he clicks his tongue, clearly enjoying this. What a sadistic motherfucker.

"I-I can't-"

Can Jesus please hurry up and come fast? Even better, immediately take this one to hell, please.

"Aw, you poor thing" he tuts, mockingly. No one dares to speak, and you'll learn later that he's got his own reputation. For a reason.

"Don't worry, I'll help you myself"

Turns out, the fucker made you and your shaky legs stand up and walk the walk of shame. Then, you had to proyect the silly video, which in handsight, wasn't funny anymore. While some of your classmates laughed, that didn't lessen how humilliated you felt.

It had happened during your first year at university, on a subject you really couldn't care less and when you were still (practically) a baby; freshly eighteen. But now you were twenty, almost finishing your career, and the shaky insecure teenager was long gone, replaced by a secure (albeit a bit of a bitch), confident woman.

That had been your first encounter with professor Pascal.

You have to give him some credit: he is kind of the reason why you did a full 180 on your personality.

But life always comes back to bite you in the ass.

"What do you mean you're sick?" you scoff, "we were supposed to go to Dave's party tonight!"

Your friend lets out a cough that sounds borderline animalistic.

"First of all, don't come closer. I'll pass it to you" Jin speaks up, voice rough from the earlier death-threatening cough. "And second, do you think I care about a stupid party? I'm dying here"

"Don't be so dramatic" you roll your eyes.

"Hello? Didn't you hear that cough?!" he sounds offended, reinforcing the feeling by throwing one of his used tissues at you. You dodge his lame throw with a yuck. "I think you're devoid of empathy"

"Well, thank Mr. Pascal for that"

Jin wasn't your friend when that happened, but when you became buddies, he eventually came to know about your beef with the older man. Yes, beef, because after the Reel Deal (as you both have come to call it), he made your life impossible. If it weren't for your skills and intelligence, you'd probably fail his subject. Mr. Pascal gave you the hardest time ever: be it pairing you with the absolute worst students or making your assigments more difficult, for an "unknown" reason.

Eventually, even after such a traumatic experience and subject being way behind, it became a staple in your duo to bring him up everytime something negative happened or was mentioned.

("You're so funny!")

("Thanks, a professor pushing fifty made my life impossible when I was eighteen")

But here's an even funnier thing: for unknown reasons, Jin became his TA last semester. Probably he didn't know that you were friends, and that has to be the reason he's actually a decent human being towards the younger boy. I'm telling you, Jin would insist, the whole mean asshole shtick is propaganda!

"Talking about him..."

"Stop" you raise your hand dramatically, "enough bad news today"

"You can still go to the party, you know?" he giggles, earning another cough that practically leaves him voiceless. "Why do you insist on taking me? I don't know this people!"

Jin was two years older your senior.

"But it's not fun without you!" you insisted on dragging him around everywhere after you met because he tutored you. "Who will I bore with all my failed flirting attempts?"

"Thank God, not me" he ignores your pout. "Besides, wasn't like Marcos insisting you went with him? There's your chance!"

"But Marcos is boring..." you draw out, "and I need a man who makes me laugh"

"You can't really ask for that much in this economy"

Okay, here's the deal: there's another reason you can't let go of the Mr. Pascal subject, and it's not because of the beef. Hell, Jin can't know about this or he'll never let you live.

The answer is quite simple: as infuriating as he is, Mr. Pascal is hot. Like, middle-aged hot, with the greying hair and face marked by lines that tell time. If it wasn't for him you'd probably never discover your preference towards more... aged meat. You should be furious, and you were, but during all your petty arguments over topics or slides that didn't deserve to be reviewed for more than five minutes, the fire that ignited in your lower belly? You've never felt it before, and if that managed to get you more hot and bothered than a fresh boy ready to kiss your lips, neck and below? Well, that's a serious issue.

But it was his voice, that treated you with such vitriol, a deep and rich sound reserved just for you, or be it the way his auburn eyes seem to catch fire whenever you opened your mouth, dark forests burning in flames that threathened to reduce it all to ashes; yo were eager, anticipating the burn.

He saw your defiance, and instead of putting you in your place, he matched that wild rageful spirit of yours that refused to be tamed.

And that you liked, despite the history of hate between you.

"What about him?" you appear nonchalant, while retouching your makeup for the party.

"About him who?" Jin quips, "we just talked about two fine men-"

"The much older man"

A weird smirk forms across his lips. "Sure, of course"

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing. But it will be fun, nonetheless" he sits up straight from his previous surrendered position on the couch. "So, remember how I'm his TA, right?"

"Yes?" you pause. "Wait, if this is for me to help you check again more homeworks, no. I am not helping you read a hundred papers again for free"

"They weren't a hundred!" he barks. "Besides, it's not that"

"Then?" you press, not admiting how interested you were.

"Do you see my poor state?" you nod, not understaning where he's going. "Then, you're aware I'm not capacitated to do said task as of right now"

"I'm aware" you repeat, "what I'm not, is what does that have to do with me?" you resume your activity, going for your eyeliner. "So much mystery when you could've just said it in a pass"

"I need you to cover up for me"

The liquid eyeliner paints a line across half of your face. "What?!"

He laughs at your reaction, "You heard me"

You leave the mirror, now focusing your attention on him. "It's not April Fools yet, Jin. Heads up, it was a terrible prank"

Even if it made you hot to have such dynamic with your former IM professor, you weren't exactly keen on seeing him again. For you, he had turned into a memory slash fantasy at some point: an asshole that got your panties wet and pussy slick when you touched yourself at night, on behalf of all the dumb uni boys who couldn't reach that sweet spot of yours. What a dirty girl, his velvet voice on your head would say. Why are you touching yourself to your supposed foe, a much older guy? Fucking slut. Yeah, there was no way you'd go back to the real thing for the real him to taint the image you got off almost every night to, so he could say your name in that animosity that leaked with a barely contained rage and poorly disguised distate that left a bitter taste on your mouth, ego and self-steem on the ground. Because the truth is, no matter how much you argued back, he always won. You had just found your voice, but all efforts to bring him down seemed powerless, and he had won every single battle: even if he didn't have the last word, just with a look, he made you feel small, stupid and meaningless.

Nope. Not going back.

"And you have a terrible way of coping" he's quick to counter back. "Listen, it's not so bad. You just have to do meaningless tasks and pretend to be interested. Simple, right? Look, those extra credits could be useful, you know? And you excelled the class, y/n. Easy!"

"You're making it sound trouble-free as if the man doesn't hate me"

"He's definitely forgotten about it!" he waves his hand, dissmisively. "Probably jokes about it, like us!"

"Mr. Pascal doesn't seem the type of guy to have humor"

"Humor me, then" Jin sighs. "Do this for me, yes? When have I ever failed you?"

You wish for some sense to get into his skull. Had he forgotten every single anecdote?

"Think of all those times where I've taken you home, carried you drunk. Or the sad heart breaks I've been through with you, remember? Brought you ice cream and watched your favorite movies. Or when I used to tutor you? Or-"

"Enough of your emotional manipulation, Mr. Kim" you shake your head, dissapointed, all to avoid the quiet rage to settle in. "I thought better of you"

"It's for a week. Days if this pills do a miracle" his big black eyes look at you, pleading.

"Jin, you're not being a very good friend"

"It's just this one favor" he sighs. "Look, I can't loose this thing, okay? I get the credits I need to finally leave this shithole. If I don't show up, they'll hand it to someone else. You may not believe it, but it's very demanded"

People making lines to be emotionally abused by your former IM professor? Sure thing!

"Can't you tell someone, though? I'm sure they'll understand and you can go back once this cold is gone"

"I already did so, and they told me to show up or quit, due to the wait list of people applying for the position" you roll your eyes at your university's antics and their bullshit policies. "I don't trust anyone else to not fuck it up, but you. You'll just have to tell him about this minor inconvenience, and Mr. Pascal will understand. You know, I'm kind of his favorite guy in there..."

Great, just what you needed.

"Sorry to break it to you, but as soon as I walk through that door, all that pretty boy privilege would be gone"

"Please, y/n. Please"

"You'll never ask me any other favor?"

"No" he looks rather desperate; it's funny. "Hell, you can use the lake cabin for your birthday bash if you-"

"Deal"

Were you that easy to buy, huh? What does that say about you? Fucking ass sell-out.

Okay, but a birthday party in that all glass modern cabin with a deck and a jacuzzi does sound tempting. Who could be blamed? Not you, who will have to face her biggest foe in exchange for one wild bash.

You take a deep breath, imagining the lake water splashing and champagne on the deck (ugh, Jin's parents had a waterbike too. They were loaded), before knocking on his office. The door flings open, almost hitting you in the face, and there he is: Mr. Pascal, with his brown hair with white on the sides, loose curl over his face. Your fingers definitely don't itch to touch it, of course.

He's sporting a grumpy look (when doesn't he?), his big hands (you had forgotten how big they were) holding a bunch of papers (great, work!).

"Goddamn it, Jin. I was about to call you for standing me up, you know I hate when people don't tell me-"

He stops on his tracks, and that all too familiar scowl deepens his face.

"You"

Seethed with such venom, it's quite scary. Your legs tremble, yet your pussy clenches.

"Yes, me" you can't help but let out a little laugh at his antics. What did Jin said about him not remembering you? Well, can't be blamed; you weren't easy to forget.

His jaw clenches while looking down at you, but this time, you don't dare to flinch.

"What are you doing here?"

"See, Jin is my friend-"

He interrupts you, body frame resting on the door with a relaxed posture, but his shoulder looks tense.

"Oh, I liked him. Liked, as in past tense" he emphasizes, like a child throwing a tantrum. "How can a kid like him be friends with you?"

"We're best friends, thank you very much. As a matter of fact, I'm here as a favor" you hand him Jin's written apology, that may have one or two sneezes over it. "He's sick, and I'll cover him for a week, just so he doesn't loose the position. Said you would understand"

"I do" he replies on an instant, "you I don't"

"I passed your subject. With honors, even after you made my life impossible" you reply. "I'm the best candidate, face it"

He's rendered speechless for a moment, before he bites back:

"What makes you think I won't do it again?"

Now it's you who doesn't know what to say. It's infuriating how he still keeps winning.

"That's right" a wicked smile adorns his face. "Stay and find out"

Boy, don't you love a challenge?

So you stayed, much to his surprise. The bastard probably thought you were still the same scaredy mouse from first year.

Oh, it was delicious the way his whole face fell at your entrance next morning, how he quickly replaced it and introduced you in a clipped tone.

"Where's Jin?" a girl sitting in the front row had asked, more students joining to ask for his absence. You wonder if your friend's popularity stems from his brain or looks.

"He's sick" you answered. "But don't worry, he'll be back soon"

"Thank God" Mr. Pascal voices out loud.

You shoot him a look. He wasn't joking about not making it easy, was he?

"Oh, I didn't take you as a man of faith, Mr. Pascal, but you're right. It's important to thank our Lord everyday. So, thank Him for this week where I get to offer my suffering. In reward" you turn to face him, all the class silent as they take in your weird exchange, the atmosphere tense, "I'll never see your face again"

This time, you weren't going down without a fight.

"We'll see about that"

There it was: the fire to your gasoline.

So you pushed back, and argued everytime you disagreed, things that weren't part of your work but you still did because well, if he was still hellbent on making you suffer, you weren't going to make it easy for him this time.

If students argued against him, you took their side; even if just one did, you had their back.

You finished grading, but when returning the papers, you'd let them fall with a heavy thud over his desk, not even daring to look back.

At the time he'd talk to you, you wouldn't answer, instead just doing so, but no words to be uttered his way, as if he wasn't worth the effort. Not even a clipped okay.

And you enjoyed this; savored how he'd take every one of your petty actions with his full chest, eyebrows furrowed and face red in anger, but never answering, just silent, like deep in thought, a cold and calculated look overtaking his brown eyes.

Then the veins on his neck would pop as the ones of his tight white-knuckled grip on his mug. He'd speak up, and his voice had your legs shaking for some friction, wet spots now more often on your lingerie.

That he didn't know.

All he did was you were now more than a pebble on his shoe: a huge fucking stone, going down the hill, ready to squash him.

But boy, didn't he love a challenge?

It's Friday, aka last day of Torture Week.

You drop the quizzes for next Monday on his desk with the same harsh movement you had done all week.

"And it's over" you announce, papers plopping next to him, who is writing something. Mr. Pascal's hand moves, his L much longer than it should be. He looks up at you, annoyed, but his eyes flash with a hint of amusement.

"I see you can talk"

"Well, you already know me, Mr. Pascal. So you should be aware of what I can do"

"Love if you'd enlighten me"

He leans back on his chair, arms resting behind his head. It's hard not to take a brief glance to the flexing muscles, or how he's rolled up his sleeves, arms bulking up with the action, the fabric tense. It's hot in here. Wait, or has it gotten hot? Your face feels red, and when he catches your lingering gaze, he smiles devilishly.

"Like what you see, Ms. Y/n?"

No. You refuse to let him win this again, so close to the end.

"The release from prison?" you regain your posture, "very much"

"You may be a loud-mouthed brat, always knowin' what to say. I'll give that to you" he props himself to the front, elbows now resting on the desk as his eyes scan yours with a shade of dark covering them. "But a good liar you ain't"

You try to remain still, face emotionless, but your professor is a man of experience; an expert on his field. He who investigates, who has majored to be able to notice every small detail that can contribute to a hypothesis, has now formulated his.

You want this as much as he wants to.

You, with your wobbly legs and nervous eyes, glancing up at him with a hungry gaze that matches his own, despite your angry posture and irritated tone. You, that picked up petty arguments just to rile him up, because you liked the command for power on his voice. You like this, didn't you? Feeling small and weak, fangs pointy, just barely gracing the skin; the edge what set your skin on fire.

He isn't one to hold grudges (he's just mean all the time), but Pedro is willing to show you he hasn't forgotten about the years, and he'll be more than willing to fuck that bitchy attitude out of you.

"Hello?" you snap your fingers in front of him, "are you there?"

He snaps back to reality, your face covering his vision. In his position, he gets rewarded with a delicious peak at your breasts and the nude lingerine hiding them. He can imagine the perked nipples and the rosy plush skin he'd love to trace his tongue with, because even when you speak in a harsh voice, your eyes speak another thing. Fuck, he thinks he can even smell your arousal.

"I was talking to you" you don't even give him room to reply; snotty ass. "Said I was already leaving"

He thinks of himself as merciful. So he stands up, your bodies barely brushing against each other for a second, before he's opening the door, towering over you. He's so close, you can see the grey hairs mixed with the brown ones on his beard and mustache. God, you can smell him: coffee, cigarrettes, sandalwood and leather.

"You're free, Ms. Y/n" he follows your line of joke from before. "Just, humor me with one last thing"

You glance over at the clock above his desk. It's barely noon.

"Yes?" as dry as possible.

"Why did you accept?"

It's a simple question, really, but it manages to catch you off guard.

His tone is so different, maybe that's why: it's low, impossibly low. For less attentive people, it could even pass as a growl. But you hear, the amusement and dare laced within the velvety tone.

"Because I'm a good friend" you manage to speak, his body caging your smaller frame against the door.

This is ridiculous. You can leave at any time. Hello? Have your legs not gotten the memo?

"I didn't think you were capable of good things"

You huff, annoyed. "Well, I passed your subject, didn't I?"

He clicks his tongue.

"Many before you, and more after you have. Doesn't make you special, y/n"

Your name alone leaves a savory and toxic sweetness on his tongue.

"But how many of those you remember?" Mr. Pascal shots up an eyebrow, confused. "Tell me, how many can you name? That's right. I changed your life, whether you like it or not"

He's quick to reply. "Bullshit"

"Bullshit" you mock his angry tone, "but you recognized me the moment you opened the door. It didn't even take you seconds, hell, you hadn't even fully seen me and you knew who I was. Doesn't take a great investigator to figure it out, does it? So I take you missed me"

He can't believe your fucking mouth.

But then Pedro's remembering the way his pants tightened when you started to stand up to him, getting even worse when he still managed to shut you up. Fuck, the way you had smirked when you approved his subject during your last project delivery. He let you, because well, you had earned it: for the way your image had been the perfect companion for his hand pistoning his cock will full force, thinking of that loud mouth of yours gagged with it. Or when you walked past him in the hallways, wrapped in your own little bubble, your carefree laugh erupting and bouncing off the walls, tickling every hair of his body.

Part of him had accepted Jin to be his TA if that meant having a piece of you, even if a small connection, to you. Did you think he wouldn't know? That he wouldn't see you walking by in those small skirts that rode over when you bent? He noticed you; after all, you were in the same place most of your day.

You had excelled his subject after all, hadn't you?

So of course you'd notice his stare lingering in your back like a hand over your ass. How his eyes would dart to the skirts you wore on purpose, attentive to the moment you'd drop a pen on accident and your panties would be on sight, a wet spot in the middle you hadn't even noticed that smelled. Fuck, and wasn't it sweet?

You really feel like you have won this, don't you?

"Miss you?" Pedro hisses the words out. "I didn't miss you. What I think is happenin', is that me missing you is what you want"

"And I think you're repeating the same words and fumbling thoughts because you're a big egocentric prideful asshole who can't admit he's got the hots for his younger student"

"God. Don't you have such a filthy mouth, baby?"

Before he can register and you've fully let the nickname sink, your hand slaps his face with a potent movement that reverberates across his office's walls.

"You're a fucking piece of work, Mr. Pascal" but instead of being offended (or you don't know, fight back?), he remains silent. "You dirty old spoiled prick. Think I would never fight you back? That you can get away with whatever this is?"

"Whatever this is?" he chuckles, a sound rumbling deep from his chest. "Well, pretty girl, ain't you started this?"

He looms over you, hot breath carressing your face softly.

"Me? Unbelievable" you scoff. "You're one to talk, humiliating a poor freshman"

"Poor? You were distracted, in my class! Did your parents never teach you manners?!" his words leave droplets of spit that land in your face. "I had to put your stupid ass in place; that'll teach you something"

"Like what?" you taunt, recklessly, chest up and down with uneven breaths.

"I see it didn't work" his body language does an immediate switch. You remember a predator ready to strike their prey. "Maybe I should've tried harder"

His eyes do a wild dance over your body as so do yours.

Lip. Eyes. Skin. Cleavage. His tight pants. Biceps. Legs. Hair.

Before you can register, he's got you pinned against his desk, door closed in a loud move. There's a click sound somewhere in between, but you're too busy feeling his big hands grabbing your face roughly, as if he wants to consume your skin and feel your very bones on his calloused tips.

His lips are impossibly wet and eager, hands needily gropping your body. He pushes all his weight over you as he deepens the kiss, his tongue now inside your mouth, making you falter.

You let out a breathy moan when your back hits the desk, the wood digging your skin, but he swallows it whole, making it impossible for you to talk.

"Mmph-"

"Mmph?" he mocks between kisses, not giving you the chance to take a breath, or maybe he was scared you would get the time to think and would push him away. "Just my mouth got you all worked up, baby? Can't even speak"

Your fingers run through his hair for support, curls between your fingers. They felt soft, like they were meant to be combed through over and over again. He dives his head in your neck, hot mouth wet with its trail of kisses, making you squirm.

"I see" his breath ghosts over your reddened skin, "you wanted this just as much, don't you? This boys aren't enough for you?"

Every hair on your body prickles, his mouth claiming every spot he could, bites and hickeys all over your skin. You whine, pouting your lips, missing his already.

"It's okay, baby" he laughs, "just gotta show them who's enough for you" he grunts, "a man"

Mr. Pascal takes off your shirt, well, basically rips the poor thing, his hands relieved to finally touch your breasts. He roughly grabs one of them, and you bite your lip so hard, you almost feel the bitter metallic taste in your mouth. He lowers himself, despite his aching joints, to play with your hardened nipples, lapping them with his warm tongue, sucking and swirling until they turn swollen.

Your hand finds its way to his formal pants, fingers gracing over the fabric, feeling his cock straining against it. Just like you imagined it: big, like his presence. If it could, your pussy would jump in excitement, realistically just throbbing and leaking.

You untie his belt and buttons so you can begin to rub over his boxers. You can feel him trying to meet your touches, grinding onto your palm. He groans, deeply, enjoying your hungry stare, steady beat, parted lips and wet cunt.

He bucks his hips against you, propping himself on the wall behind his desk, which had moved from its original position thanks to the mayhem.

"You clearly don't know what you got yourself into, baby. But don't worry, I ain't letting you go just yet"

He pulls the skirt up, revealing the damp panties and mess between your legs. He licks his lips before rough digits find your wet folds. His fingers carress your impossibly tight walls, coating them with your slick.

"So fucking tight" he groans against your collarbones, "thought of yourself as uptight but I can fucking smell you dripping, you dirty slut. Could tell you loved provoking me becayse that's the only way your snotty ass can get off"

"F-fuck you, Mr. Pascal" you manage to choke out.

"Where are your manners? After how I've rewarded your big mouth, you bitch" he takes off your panties with skilled practice, the piece falling to the floor with a weak sound. Your bare cunt makes you shiver. "You think you're smart, baby? You think you can play these games and face no consequences at all?" he tuts. "No, Ms. Y/n, you know I hate wastin' my time, so be a good girl and don't make this harder for you, get that?"

You whine at his words, but refuse to shut your mouth.

"Oh, I'm smart" you laugh, "smart enough to have you on your knees for me"

An ugly grin spreads across his features.

"I will never bend for a bratty pretentious slut like you" he grips your hair with force, leaving your neck exposed, "You have no idea what you've gotten yourself into, stupid cock hungry whore. You wanted my attention? It's all yours"

Then, with a low, almost feral growl, he grabs your hips and hoists you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. He sweeps the papers and books onto the floor with a clatter, setting you down on the edge.

"You better behave, baby" Mr. Pascal bites your lower lip, "don't want people to know what we're doing in here, do you? Or would you want them to know just how much of a slut you are, spread on my desk as your cunt drips for me?"

He steps between your legs, pushing them further apart, his hands gripping your thighs hard enough to leave bruises. He leans in, his face inches from yours, voice low in a threatening rasp.

"I'll behave, I promise" mind in blank.

"No loud mouth bitchy stuck up attitude?"

You free his cock, hands scouting his shaft, his base, and balls. You fondled them while his fingers lingered closer to your pussy.

"No"

"This is what you wanted, isn't it? To be fucked stupid and used for my pleasure? Well, get ready, because I'm not going to stop until I've had my fill of this sweet little cunt"

He savors at the sight of your glistening folds.

"Let me-"

He laughs, seeing how you desire to guide his cock towards your entrance.

"Eager, little one?" he teases.

"Yes" you whimper, "I need you so badly, papi"

Your plea mixed with Spanish sends him on edge. His eyes darken with a primal, almost feral hunger at your desperate plea.

His voice is strained, rough with barely restrained lust.

"Fuck, you needy little thing. You want to take my dick until this desk breaks?"

He rubs the swollen head of his dick against your dripping slit, coating it in your arousal. Then, with one powerful thrust, he slams into you, burying himself to the hilt in your tight, hot cunt.

"So tight" he groans, starting to move and setting a brutal pace from the very beginning. The desk shakes and creaks beneath you with each forceful thrust, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through the empty office. He punctuates his words with a particularly hard thrust, grinding his pelvis against your clit. He sets a relentless, punishing rhythm, determined to fuck you into oblivion.

It's a goddamn view in here: him above you, droplets of sweat falling to your face, pristine hair now disheveled.

At this point, you were clenching so hard it hurt, walls fluttering around his massive girth. But he's greedy, and he's pushing himself deeper and deeper.

"Runnin' your mouth but now all quiet as you take all of me, hungry greedy whore" he digs his fingers into your cheeks harshly, but you find pleasure in the sting the pain causes. "Bet this is all you been thinking since you started talking back, huh? Don't worry, daddy's got you"

Surprisingly, he leans down, capturing your mouth in a dominating kiss, tongue invading your mouth. His hand comes up to wrap around your throat, squeezing lightly, a silent reminder of who you belong to.

"God. You're wet everywhere, baby"

His sweaty chest presses itself onto your tits as he forced his cock deeper within you, the plaid shirt sticking with sweat to his ablazed body, temperature high.

"T-the desk" you protest numbly; mind-fucked.

And oh, boy, doesn't he enjoy this view? Your fluttering eyelids, hazy eyes and trembling body.

So he keeps fucking you: pounding into you, rolling his hips skillfully, taking up all the space within you.

"I don't give a damn fuck about the desk, Ms. Y/n. I'm gonna fuck that attitude of yours until all you know is my name" he leans down, sinking his teeth into the soft flesh of your neck, biting down hard enough to leave a mark. His hands grip your hips with bruising force, pulling you harder against him with each violent thrust. "Gonna break the desk, hell, fuck you on the floor if necessary, but you ain't leaving this office until my cum drips from your legs and everyone knows your tight little cunt is mine"

The desk groans and wobbles beneath you, the legs scraping against the floor as Pedro fucks you with wild abandon. The sound of your moans and the crude, wet slap of skin on skin echoes obscenely in the room.

His pubic bone grinds against your clit with each thrust, the rough friction sending jolts of electric pleasure shooting up your spine. His cock hits that perfect spot inside you, the one that makes your toes curl and your back arch off the desk.

He feels your walls starting to flutter around him, your body tensing as your orgasm approaches. Mr. Pascal leans in, his lips brushing against your ear, his voice a dark, intimate rasp.

"Why don't you be a good girl and tell daddy how good he's making you feel? Show me and everyone else what a desperate little slut you are, waiting for me to fill you up nicely with my seed"

He makes out of you a loud mess, a series of sweet sounds falling from your lips. You clench and he twitches, his digits holding your waist, keeping you in place for him.

"Good girl" he praises, "now you're gonna take it all, milk me dry, you greedy cocksleeve"

His thrusts become erratic and sloppier. The older man can feel your walls starting to flutter around him, body tensing as your orgasm approaches. He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear, his voice a dark, intimate rasp.

"Will you be a good girl?"

"Yes!" you cry out, "don't stop!"

You hated this humilliation, how easy it is for him to fuck you with his big cock. You fucking hated him. But didn't he make you feel so good.

"Then come on my cock, bitch"

You didn't think it was capable, no, but you did. A first, another first when it came to Mr. Pascal.

You squirt. You fucking squirted.

Pedro lets out a feral roar of triumph when your pussy spasms around his pistoning cock, your release gushing out and soaking his dick and the desk, papers and shit beneath you (no, not the quizzes! You had printed them this morning). He savors the way you throw your head back, eyes rolling until they turn white on your fucked-out face.

"Such a sweet cunt, baby" he praises. "Milk me dry, come on"

Your slick walls milking him dry pushes him over the edge, clenching around him, and he knew it was over. He snaps, arching his back as he roughly moans. With one final, brutal thrust, he buries himself balls-deep inside you, his cock throbbing and pulsing as he starts to come. Thick, scorching ropes of cum paint your insides, flooding your womb with his potent seed, still pushing the remnants inside when he grinds against you, his pelvis pressed tight to yours as he rides out the waves of his intense orgasm. His grip on your hips tightens, fingermarks surely to be left in the soft flesh as he holds you in place, ensuring you take every last drop of his release.

"That's it, pretty baby. Can't even speak, can you?" he captures your mouth in a deep, dominating kiss. Like he owns you. "As you can see, I'm a man of my word"

He breaks the kiss, his forehead resting against yours as he pants softly. His eyes, when they meet yours, are dark and intense, filled with a primal, almost feral satisfaction.

It's humilliating, really, how your lips search for more. You need him, badly, despite how shit he treats you and how wrong all of this is. Is this a win or a loose?

"Good girl" he repeats, his sweaty forehead clashing against yours. The desk creaks yet again. You love when he praises you, and you whine on instintic, making him laugh. "Learned your place just yet? Listen carefully, Ms. Y/n: no matter what you do or say, I'll always win, get it? And you'll be nothing but a needy uptight slut who begs for my attention and cock"

He pulls out of you slowly, his softening dick slipping from your well-used hole with a gush of their combined releases. He tucks himself away, doing up his pants with quick, efficient movements. His thumb brushes over your lower lip, smearing a streak of his cum across it.

"Go on. Taste it, and tell me how it feels"

Your tongue does a lazy movement, making your lips moist thanks to the saliva and his cum, like a fucking gloss. You shouldn't enjoy this, really, but your body shivers when you feel the taste of him going down your throat as you swallow.

"Good" you manage to speak, salt on the tip of your tongue.

"Good" he repeats, voice low and menacing, "because we're just getting started"

[asterafroditis]

𐔌 . ⋮ too late to speak .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

☓┆Azul Ashengrotto x gn! reader

𓏵 879 words

ᝰ.ᐟ 3rd Person POV, no pronouns used, unestablished relationship with reader, angst, hurt/no comfort

might give this a part 2 with a happy ending if I feel like it or anyone asks (-ω-；) feel free to like, reblog, or comment!

ᝰ.ᐟ masterlist

Azul always knew you were kind.

Not just polite or charming, but truly, genuinely kind. The kind of person who greeted everyone by name, who asked how their day was and actually listened to the answer. The kind of person who saw past his sharp businessman’s smile, his smooth-talking arrogance, and treated him as if he was worth more than just a contract.

But that was just how you were with everyone.

He told himself that, over and over again. That you were just friendly. That there was nothing special about the way you spoke to him, that he was foolish for thinking he meant anything more to you than the next student you happened to befriend.

So he waited.

Waited for a sign. For proof that you might see him the way he saw you. Because Azul Ashengrotto didn’t take risks he couldn’t afford to lose, and losing you—the idea of you rejecting him, looking at him with pity—was something he could never gamble on.

So he said nothing.

And in turn, neither did you.

You used to think Azul would be the one to confess first.

He was strategic, after all—always had a plan, always thought five steps ahead. If he wanted something, he found a way to get it. And for a while, you let yourself believe that maybe, maybe, you were something he wanted, too.

You caught the way he lingered whenever you spoke, how his usually quick-witted tongue tripped over itself when you leaned a little too close. The way his gaze softened when he thought no one was looking.

You noticed it all. And it made your heart race, made your stomach twist in that agonizing, hopeful way.

But Azul never acted. Never said a word.

So, eventually, you convinced yourself you had imagined it.

That if he truly wanted you, he would have done something by now.

That maybe, despite the way you thought he looked at you, despite the way you wanted him to look at you—he never actually felt the same.

But you had to be sure.

So you tested him.

"Azul, I need your help."

He looked up from his ledger, barely registering your words at first. He had spent the past hour going over the Lounge’s weekly earnings, making adjustments, analyzing profit margins—but all of that became meaningless the moment you stepped into his office.

You were smiling. You always smiled.

"Of course," he said smoothly, placing his pen down. "What can I do for you?"

You hesitated, shifting on your feet. That wasn’t like you. You were usually so confident when asking him for favors, teasing him about his endless contracts and over-the-top business plans.

This time, though, you looked... nervous.

"I... well, you know I’ve been spending a lot of time with—" you said a name. Azul barely heard it. His mind had already started ringing, a dull roar drowning out the sound of your voice.

No. No, no, no.

Not that name. Not them.

"I think I like them, Azul," you admitted, fingers gripping the hem of your uniform. "And I—I want to tell them. But I don’t know how to do it without making a fool of myself."

Your heart was pounding. It was humiliating, really, standing here, asking him of all people for help with this.

Because you weren’t just asking for advice. You were waiting. Watching.

For the slightest change in his expression. A flicker of something—anything—that might prove you hadn’t been wrong.

That all those moments weren’t just in your head.

That Azul wanted you.

But Azul didn’t react.

He blinked once, his expression unreadable, and then—he smiled.

The same careful, practiced smile you had seen him use a hundred times before.

"I see," he said, voice perfectly even. "Well, that is quite the dilemma."

A laugh escaped you—light, relieved. That was that, then.

It was never real, was it?

Azul had never liked you the way you liked him.

His throat closed up. His hands curled into fists beneath his desk.

You—you were asking him for advice on how to confess to someone else.

He should’ve seen this coming. He did see this coming, deep down. But he had been too much of a coward to act. Too afraid of rejection to reach for the one thing he wanted more than anything.

And now?

Now you were asking him to help you love someone else.

He couldn't speak. Couldn't breathe. Couldn't think.

"Azul?" Your voice was so soft, so sweet. So unfair.

He forced himself to smile. To laugh.

To play the part of the perfect, unaffected friend.

And when you beamed at him, oblivious, he knew—he had already lost.

You had your answer.

It stung. More than you wanted to admit.

But at least now you knew.

At least now, you wouldn’t spend another second waiting for something that was never going to come.

You smiled at Azul, one final test, but he didn’t hesitate. He launched into his usual confident spiel, offering you advice like it was nothing. Like he wasn’t crushing your chest with every word.

And for the first time, you really believed him.

Azul didn’t want you.

Not like that.

And if that was the case, then maybe moving on really was the right choice.

[julietsf1]

Home Again - Charles Leclerc x Reader

summary: eight years, one city, and a thousand unspoken words—will a chance encounter in London bring closure, or is there more in store for Monaco's golden boy and the one who got away? (4.5k words)

content: reunion, slight angst, unresolved feelings, childhood friends

AN: another Charles one! I felt like these tropes really suited his vibe, I hope you enjoy!! :)

____________________________________

London always felt like a city of paradoxes - chaotic yet calming, detached yet full of life. As I sipped my cappuccino at a small café tucked away in Soho, I let my mind wander. The same questions had lingered in my mind over the years, growing louder the longer I avoided them. Was it a mistake to leave? Should I have fought harder to keep in touch with him? With Charles?

I shook my head. No, leaving Monaco had been necessary. It was beautiful, yes, but it was like living inside a postcard, picture-perfect on the outside but so painfully hollow within. Everyone was constantly posturing, trying to outdo the next person in opulence, charm, or connections. It was exhausting.

And Charles… he was Monte Carlo personified in so many ways. Stunning, magnetic, the kind of person who made you feel alive just by being in his orbit. But there was something raw and real beneath that glossy exterior, something I’d always seen, even when no one else seemed to. I loved him for it. And maybe, in a way, I hated him too - for thriving in a place that felt like it would suffocate me.

The faint chime of the café door opening pulled me from my thoughts. I glanced up, expecting some trendy Londoner or a tourist fumbling with their map. But instead, my eyes landed on a familiar face, one I hadn’t seen in nearly a decade. Arthur Leclerc.

“Y/N?” His voice was incredulous, his eyebrows shooting up as he stopped mid-step. He looked exactly the same, just a bit taller, a bit sharper around the edges. Still the same boy I remembered from childhood, though, with that mischievous glint in his eye.

I blinked, unsure if I was hallucinating. “Arthur?”

He grinned, practically bounding over to my table. “Mon dieu, it is you! I wasn’t sure at first, but… wow, what are you doing in London?”

I gestured to my half-empty coffee cup. “Living here. What about you? I thought you’d be… I don’t know, in Monaco or racing somewhere glamorous.”

Arthur slid into the seat across from me without waiting for an invitation, his grin widening. “I was here for a sim session, actually. But you, London? I thought you’d be in Paris or some other philosophy capital, writing about Socrates or something.”

I laughed softly. “Close enough. I came here for university, and I never left.”

“Eight years.” His tone was lighter, but his words carried weight. “It’s been eight years, Y/N. Do you ever go back?”

The question hit me harder than I expected. I took a sip of my coffee to buy myself time. “No,” I admitted. “Not since… well, not since I left.”

Arthur’s expression softened, though confusion lingered in his eyes. “You just… left,” he said gently. “No one really understood why. Charles especially.”

I looked down at my coffee, the words caught in my throat. How could I explain the weight of feeling like an outsider in a world I was supposed to call home?

“I just needed to go,” I murmured. “It wasn’t about anyone else.”

Arthur studied me for a moment, then nodded slowly. “I guess I never really got it, but… if it’s what you needed, then fine.” He paused before leaning forward with a small smile. “Come back. Just for the weekend, for the Grand Prix. I think it’d mean a lot to everyone. To Charles.”

I bit my lip, unsure how to respond. The truth was, I’d thought about going back a hundred times. But every time, I chickened out. Monaco felt like a ghost town to me now, haunted by memories I wasn’t sure I was ready to face.

“I don’t know,” I said finally. “It’s complicated.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” Arthur said simply. He pulled out his phone and started typing something before I could protest. “There. I signed you up as my guest. No backing out now.”

I stared at him, equal parts annoyed and touched by his insistence. “What if I had plans already?”

“Cancel them,” he shot back with a wink. “But seriously, Y/N, it’s time. Come back. Just for a weekend. What’s the worst that could happen?”

I sighed, knowing I’d already lost this battle. And maybe he was right. Maybe it was time.

…

Monaco hadn’t changed. Not really.

The same sunlit streets curved around the cliffs, the same pastel buildings clung to the coastline, their colors soft and warm under the Mediterranean sun. The harbor was still crowded with yachts that gleamed like polished jewels, reflecting the light off the water’s surface. It was all exactly as I remembered—beautiful in the kind of way that made you feel small and insignificant.

I wasn’t sure what I expected. Maybe cracks in the pristine perfection, signs that time had weathered the place the same way it had weathered me. But Monaco, ever the picture perfect place, refused to bend to time.

And for the first time in years, I didn’t resent it for that. The beauty I had once thought insincere now felt strangely comforting, like being greeted by an old friend who hadn’t forgotten you, even if you had drifted apart.

“Here we are, mademoiselle,” the taxi driver said, pulling up to the paddock entrance.

I took a deep breath and stepped out. The familiar hum of Grand Prix weekend surrounded me immediately - the roar of engines revving in the distance, the buzz of chatter from fans and team members, the faint tang of fuel in the air. It was overwhelming, yes, but also exhilarating. Nostalgia wrapped around me, equal parts warm and suffocating.

“Y/N!” Arthur’s voice rang out, pulling me back to the present. He was waiting just inside the paddock entrance, a wide grin spreading across his face as he waved me over.

I smiled despite myself and walked toward him. “Arthur,” I said, my tone teasing. “You’re not old enough to be drinking espresso yet.”

He laughed, pulling me into a hug that was warmer than I expected. “Eight years and you still won’t give me a break. Come on, let’s go.”

“Go where?” I asked as he led me into the paddock, his enthusiasm practically radiating off him.

“Everywhere,” he said simply. “It’s been years. You’ve missed so much.”

Arthur guided me through the maze of the paddock, pointing out everything with a mix of pride and excitement, as though I hadn’t grown up watching all of this unfold. But I let him have his moment, nodding along and laughing at his commentary.

“You look different,” he said suddenly, catching me off guard. “In a good way, I mean. More… I don’t know, serious. Like you’ve seen things. Learned things.”

I raised an eyebrow. “That’s a very poetic way of saying I look old, Arthur.”

“No, really,” he insisted, his expression earnest. “It’s like you’ve grown into yourself.”

The comment was unexpected, but it warmed me. “Thanks,” I said softly. “You’ve grown up too. A little.”

He grinned. “Don’t let Charles hear you say that. He still treats me like a kid.”

At the mention of Charles, my stomach twisted, though I tried to keep my expression neutral. Arthur must have noticed something, because his tone shifted, gentler now. “I know it’s probably weird, being back here,” he said. “But I think it’s good you came. I think… I think Charles will be happy to see you.”

I didn’t have the heart to tell him how wrong I thought he was. Instead, I nodded and let him lead me deeper into the paddock.

…

The paddock was chaos, as always. Media rushing everywhere, team members darting back and forth. But Charles couldn’t focus on any of it.

Because she was here.

He had only seen her for a brief moment, just a glimpse of her stepping out of a taxi and into the paddock. But it was enough to bring back everything; every memory, every laugh, every ache of missing her. She looked exactly like she did before, only prettier. 

It had been eight years. Eight years since she left without a goodbye, leaving him to wonder if he had done something wrong, if he had somehow driven her away. And now she was back, as though she had never been gone.

“Arthur,” he muttered, pulling out his phone. His hand shook slightly as he dialed.

His brother answered on the first ring. “Charles? What’s up?”

“What’s up?” Charles hissed, keeping his voice low as he stepped out of the chaos and into a quiet corner. “Arthur, why didn’t you tell me she was coming?”

There was a pause, then a sheepish laugh. “Ah. You’ve seen her already.”

“Yes, I’ve seen her!” Charles snapped, though the anger in his voice was undercut by the nervous energy bubbling beneath. “You should’ve warned me.”

“I didn’t think I needed to,” Arthur said, his tone annoyingly casual. “I thought you’d be happy. It’s been years, Charles. Don’t you want to see her?”

Charles ran a hand through his hair, leaning against the wall. “Of course I want to see her. I just… I don’t know what to say.”

Arthur’s voice softened. “You’ll figure it out. You always did with her.”

…

Arthur had been called away to a meeting, leaving me to wander the place on my own. I found a quiet spot near the Ferrari hospitality area, nursing a coffee and trying to steady the whirlwind of emotions in my chest.

Being back here was surreal, like stepping into a memory I wasn’t sure I wanted to relive. But at the same time, I couldn’t deny the comfort of it - the familiar sounds, the smell of the sea air mixed with fuel, the vibrant energy of race weekend.

I heard footsteps behind me and turned instinctively, my breath catching as I locked eyes with him.

Charles.

He stopped in his tracks, his expression a mix of shock and something I couldn’t place, something that made my chest tighten. For a moment, neither of us moved. The weight of eight years of silence hung in the air between us, heavy and unyielding.

Before I could say anything, he turned abruptly and walked away.

…

The roar of the engines drowned out everything else. I stood on the hospitality terrace, surrounded by fans who were shouting encouragement in a chorus of excitement. The energy was contagious, a reminder of why I had always loved race weekends, even when the rest of Monaco felt stifling.

Arthur had left me to sit with some of his friends, but I didn’t mind being alone. It gave me a chance to take it all in—the track, the sea of red Ferrari merchandise, the sun reflecting off the sleek cars. My eyes kept drifting to one in particular, the red number 16 that seemed to glide through every corner as though the circuit were made for it.

Charles.

I hadn’t seen him since he walked away from me in the paddock earlier. It shouldn’t have surprised me; after all, what could we have possibly said to each other in that moment? But it still stung, the abruptness of it, the way he looked at me like I was a ghost he wasn’t ready to confront.

I shook my head, trying to push the thought away. It didn’t matter. This wasn’t about him. It was about being here, about reconnecting with a part of my life I had left behind.

But as the race unfolded, I couldn’t stop my gaze from following him. Every lap, every overtaking move, every moment of brilliance - it was impossible not to be drawn in. Charles had always been talented, but seeing him now, so focused and in control, was something else entirely. It was breathtaking.

The crowd around me erupted as Charles crossed the finish line, taking the victory in a masterful final lap. People were cheering, waving flags, hugging strangers in celebration. I found myself smiling, caught up in the infectious energy of the moment.

But my smile faltered as I saw him step out of the car. The joy on his face was undeniable, but there was something else—something in the way his eyes scanned the crowd, as though he were looking for someone.

For a split second, I thought he might be looking for me. But then I shook my head, brushing the thought away. Charles had the whole world celebrating him right now. Why would he waste a second of it on someone who had been gone for so long?

Still, as he climbed onto the podium and lifted the trophy, I couldn’t help but feel that same strange pull I had always felt with him. It wasn’t just admiration or pride; it was I only felt with him.

As the celebrations spilled into the paddock, where the Ferrari garage was alive with champagne showers, laughter, I kept my distance, lingering near the back of the crowd as the team surrounded Charles, congratulating him.

Arthur spotted me and made his way over, a grin plastered across his face. “Pretty incredible, huh?” he said, motioning toward the scene.

I nodded. “He’s… he’s amazing,” I said, my voice quieter than I intended.

Arthur gave me a look, something between knowing and sympathetic. “You should come to the afterparty,” he said. “We’re all heading to Rimaldi later. It’ll be fun.”

I hesitated, the thought of being in a room full of people who knew Charles, who had been part of his world all these years, making my stomach twist. “I don’t know…”

“Don’t overthink it,” Arthur said, cutting me off. “It’s just a party. No pressure.”

I forced a smile, but the weight in my chest didn’t ease. “We’ll see,” I said, knowing full well I wasn’t going to go.

***

The party at Rimaldi was everything Charles had come to expect from these celebrations—loud music, overflowing champagne, and a sea of people he barely recognized. The restaurant’s cozy atmosphere had been transformed into a chaotic celebration, with glasses clinking and laughter filling every corner. Fans and acquaintances congratulated him as though they were old friends, slapping him on the back and offering toasts in his honor.

Normally, this was his element. He was good at this—the smiling, the handshakes, the polite small talk that came with being the center of attention. On any other night, he would have been content to let the noise and the crowd carry him, to let it fill the empty spaces he so often ignored. But tonight was different.

Tonight, no matter how many times he raised his glass or laughed along with a joke, he couldn’t shake the gnawing restlessness that had been with him all day. His mind kept drifting, pulled away from the party and back to the one place he couldn’t seem to avoid—her.

She’d looked the same and yet completely different. The years had softened some edges and sharpened others, but it was still her. Y/N, the person who had once been his closest friend, his anchor in a world that often felt overwhelming. He thought he had moved on from wondering why she left, why she cut him off, but seeing her again brought it all back in a rush.

He barely touched his drink, the glass sweating in his hand as he leaned against the edge of the bar. Across the room, Arthur caught his eye, a knowing grin on his face as he raised his own drink in a silent toast. Charles frowned and turned away, pretending not to notice.

“Charles! Congratulations!” A voice pulled him back to the moment. A well-dressed man, someone he vaguely recognized as a sponsor, clapped him on the shoulder. Charles offered a tight smile, exchanging a few polite words before excusing himself.

The truth was, he wasn’t really here. Not mentally. The louder the party grew, the more it grated on him, every laugh and cheer feeling like static in his ears. His thoughts kept circling back to the paddock, to the way her eyes had met his for that brief, electric moment. She had looked surprised, hesitant, but not angry. That was something, at least.

But then she had disappeared, and he hadn’t been able to stop replaying it in his mind—the way she stood there, so poised and composed, and then was gone, swallowed up by the crowd.

By midnight, he couldn’t take it anymore. The laughter and music blurred into background noise as he stood, shaking his head at someone offering him another drink. He muttered something about needing rest and slipped out through the side door, ignoring Arthur’s raised eyebrows as he left. His brother didn’t stop him, though, and Charles suspected Arthur knew exactly where he was going.

The streets of Monaco were quieter now, the city’s energy winding down after the race. Charles drove aimlessly at first, his hands tight around the steering wheel. The roads he knew so well blurred together as his thoughts raced faster than his car ever could.

He didn’t know what he was going to say. He didn’t even know if she would want to see him. But none of that mattered, because the one thing he did know, the one thought that consumed him, was this:

He needed to see her.

***

The knock at the door startled me.

I glanced at the clock on the bedside table—12:27 a.m. I had been lying on the hotel bed for the past hour, staring at the ceiling, trying to make sense of the day. Arthur’s invitation, the race, seeing Charles for the first time in years—all of it felt like too much, like I had stepped back into a world I didn’t belong to anymore.

Another knock, firmer this time.

I sat up, my heart racing. Maybe it was Arthur, coming to drag me to the afterparty. Or worse, maybe it was a staff member telling me something had gone wrong with my reservation. My stomach twisted as I padded across the room, hesitating before unlocking the door.

But when I opened it, it wasn’t Arthur or hotel staff standing there.

It was Charles.

He leaned against the doorframe, his hands stuffed into his jacket pockets, his hair slightly tousled by the wind. He was dressed casually—dark jeans, a fitted jacket that hinted at his frame—but there was nothing casual about the look in his eyes. They flickered between me and the floor, restless, as though he were trying to piece together why he was even here.

“Hi,” he said finally, his voice quiet but steady.

I stared at him, too stunned to respond at first. “Charles,” I managed after a moment. “What are you doing here?”

His shoulders dropped slightly, like he’d been holding his breath. “Can we go for a drive?”

I blinked, caught off guard. “Now?”

“Yes,” he said, his tone firmer this time, though not unkind. “I need to talk to you. And I can’t do it here.”

I hesitated, glancing back into the room like it held the answer. But there was no answer waiting for me, no excuse strong enough to keep me from following him. “Okay,” I said softly. “Let me grab my coat.”

The streets of Monaco were quieter now, the city winding down after the race. Charles drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting loosely on the gearstick. His jaw was tight, his eyes fixed on the road, and the silence between us felt heavy, charged with everything unsaid.

I kept stealing glances at him, trying to read the expression on his face, but it was unreadable. It wasn’t anger exactly, but it wasn’t calm either. It was something in between—a tension I couldn’t quite place.

Finally, he turned onto a small road overlooking the harbor and parked. He shut off the engine but didn’t move, his hands gripping the steering wheel as he stared out at the lights reflecting on the water.

“Why did you leave?” he asked finally, his voice breaking the silence like a crack of thunder.

I swallowed hard, my hands twisting in my lap. “I didn’t know how to stay,” I said quietly. “Monaco… it wasn’t the same for me as it was for you. It felt fake, like I was living in a place where everything was about appearances and nothing was real. I couldn’t breathe there.”

He turned then, his gaze sharp and searching. “So you left without a word? Without even telling me?”

I met his eyes, feeling the sting of his words. “I didn’t think you’d understand.”

“Understand?” he repeated, his voice rising slightly. “Y/N, you were my best friend. I would have done anything for you, but you didn’t even give me the chance.”

The anger in his tone cut deep, but beneath it, I could hear something else—hurt. And that was worse.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” I said softly. “But I had to go. For me.”

Charles shook his head, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Do you know how many times I thought about calling you? About flying to London to find you? But I didn’t, because I told myself that if you wanted to talk to me, you would.”

I clenched my hands together, forcing myself to hold his gaze. “I thought about telling you,” I said softly. “But I was scared. Scared that if I saw you, I wouldn’t be able to leave. And I had to leave, Charles. I didn’t know who I was anymore.”

“I would have let you go if that is what you wanted. I just wish I had known.” He said, looking deep into my eyes. 

I felt a lump rise in my throat. “It wasn’t that simple.”

“Even a text or a quick call would have made the difference, Y/N.”

“Then why didn’t you?” I asked, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. “You blame me for no contact, but you never reached out either.”

His jaw tightened, his hands gripping the steering wheel again. “Because I didn’t think you wanted me to,” he said finally, his voice quieter now. “You didn’t leave a door open, Y/N. Not for me, not for anyone.”

The anger in his tone cut deep, but beneath it, I could hear something else—hurt. And that was worse.

We fell into silence, the weight of our words hanging heavy in the air. My chest felt tight, my emotions raw and unsteady. I looked out at the harbor, the city lights shimmering like distant stars, and took a deep breath.

“Explain it to me,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost pleading. “Because I don’t understand, Y/N. I’ve spent eight years not understanding.”

My chest felt tight, the weight of everything we had been avoiding pressing down on me.

“I was scared,” I admitted, my voice trembling. “Scared that if I stayed, I’d lose myself. Scared that if I saw you again, I’d lose the courage to leave. And then… after your dad…” I trailed off, the memory too painful to finish. “I didn’t know how to come back after that.”

Charles’s expression softened, the anger fading into something more vulnerable. “You could have come to me,” he said quietly. “You should have come to me.”

I shook my head, tears pricking the corners of my eyes. “And what would I have said? ‘Sorry for leaving you when you needed me the most’? I couldn’t face that, Charles. I couldn’t face you.”

For a moment, neither of us spoke. The only sound was the faint hum of the city outside.

My chest felt tight, my emotions raw and unsteady, as though years of bottled-up feelings had burst open all at once, leaving me vulnerable and exposed. I turned my gaze toward the harbor, the city lights shimmering like scattered stars on the water, their soft glow blurring slightly as tears pricked at my eyes. The stillness of the moment contrasted sharply with the storm raging inside me.

Charles broke the silence, his voice soft but resolute, as though he’d been holding these words back for far too long. “It shouldn’t have been Arthur who invited you back,” he said, his tone laced with frustration and regret. “It should’ve been me. I should’ve been the one to call you.”

The honesty in his voice hit me like a blow to the chest. I turned to him, my breath hitching as his words sank in. The years apart had been a chasm between us, filled with missed chances and unspoken words, and hearing him acknowledge it felt like a bittersweet relief. My throat tightened, and I struggled to find my voice.

“I know,” I said finally, my voice trembling. “But you didn’t call me. And… neither did I call you. We both let it happen.”

Charles’s jaw tightened, and he looked away briefly, his profile illuminated by the faint glow of the streetlights outside. When he spoke again, his voice was quieter, almost fragile. “I didn’t know how to. After you left, I was confused. I didn’t want to admit how much it hurt. And then it just… felt easier to pretend I didn’t care.”

I let out a shaky breath, the tears I’d been holding back finally slipping free. “The second I got back to Monaco, all I did was look for you,” I admitted, my words coming out in a rush, like I had been holding them in for years. “Everywhere I went, I looked for you. You were everywhere - your face in the streets, your name in conversations, your memory in everything I saw. And yet… you were nowhere.”

I heard Charles inhale sharply, and when I turned back, his eyes were locked on mine, filled with an intensity that made my breath catch. Green and piercing, they were searching for something, some part of me I wasn’t sure I still had to give. Vulnerability. Hope. Regret. I saw all of it reflected in his gaze, and it was almost too much.

“I didn’t know if I wanted to see you again,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t know if I could. But now that you’re here…” He shook his head, his expression softening into something raw and earnest. “Now that you’re here, I can’t imagine letting you go again.”

The space between us seemed to disappear in an instant. Charles reached out, his hand trembling slightly as he cupped my face, his thumb brushing against my cheek in a way that was both tender and desperate. His touch was hesitant at first, as though he was afraid I might pull away. But I didn’t. I couldn’t.

Then, before I could say anything, his lips met mine.

The kiss was soft at first, tentative, like we were both testing the waters of something so fragile it might shatter under the weight of our emotions. But it deepened quickly, carrying years of longing, frustration, and unspoken love. It was messy and imperfect, tears mingling with laughter, but it felt like home in a way I hadn’t felt in years.

When we finally pulled apart, Charles didn’t move far. His forehead rested against mine, his breath warm against my skin. He closed his eyes for a moment, as though grounding himself in the closeness between us, before murmuring, “I don’t want to lose you again. Not ever.”

My heart pounded, each beat echoing the promise in his words. I closed my eyes, letting the moment wash over me, before whispering back, “You won’t.”

In that moment, the weight of the past seemed to lift, leaving something lighter in its place. We weren’t perfect, and neither was this, but it was enough. It was us.

[bitchface24-7]

hi! i’m currently really sick and i just need something to read… gn/m reader x viktor or both jayce qnd viktor sick comfort? thank so much and have a great day <3

MY POOR DARLING - VIKTOR X READER

synopsis: you’re sick, unfortunately. A basic cold, but you feel miserable. Your nose is clogged, your head hurts, you’ve got a nasty cough. Good thing you’ve got your boyfriend to take care of you.

warnings: common cold, being cared for, fluff, Grammarly is my beta

genre: m/f or m/m

p.s. It sucks that you're sick, my mum is currently sick too. Hopefully it’s not too bad and you get better ASAP!!

Being sick is horrendous. You knew you were in trouble when you woke up and your nose was clogged, you couldn’t stop coughing, and you had a pounding headache. You were sick.

You just groan in frustration and plop back down into your bed, wanting to sleep the sick away.

Your plans get interrupted by your loving boyfriend walking in and seeing your pitiful state, he smiles lightly, “You sick?”

The grumbled and whiny no that escapes you actually convicts you. You’ve just confirmed his suspicions.

“Stay here, I’ll be right back.”

With that, he leaves you alone for a few minutes. You’ve almost drifted back to sleep when Viktor returns with a sweetened tea and some medication.

You shuffle slowly to sit up and sluggishly take the pills, popping them into your mouth and taking a mouthful of the perfectly warm tea; gulping down the two pills with ease. A small smile graces your face, “Thank you.”

A small huff of amusement escapes Viktor as he looks down at you, he lightly cards his hands through the hair at the base of your scalp, “No problem, darling. Now I’m going to effectively quarantine myself and try my best to care for you.”

A startled laugh escapes you before coughing over takes you, “Aren’t you sweet?” You sleepily bring the mug of tea up to your lips and drink slowly, trying to stop the coughing fit.

Viktor casually takes a book from the shelf and sits down at a comfy chair in the corner of the room, your own personal library. He opens the book and starts to read aloud. His smooth melodic voice filling the room.

You can’t help but smile as Viktor reads to you. You’ve always loved Viktor reading to you, it makes the books even more interesting. So having this sweet treat as you’re sick makes it that much better.

Eventually you fall back asleep, the medication, tea, and Viktor’s voice lulling you to sleep.

When you do wake up, hours later, it’s to the smell of chicken, spices, all around a delicious scent. It’s even better when it’s brought to you on a serving tray.

“I hope you’re willing to eat, or I just made my homemade chicken noodle soup for nothing.” Viktor jokes, his tone light and eyes sparkly. You giggle at him, “I’m starving. Luckily I'm not nauseous, so I'm going to devour it. Put it down pretty boy, stop teasing me.”

Your pretty boy quirks an eyebrow at you and does as you command, a chuckle escaping his plush lips.

He takes his seat back and re-opens the book, continuing to read to you as you eat your soup.

Being sick sucks, but Viktor makes it manageable.

Tis’ the season! I hope everyone is okay and if you're not, I hope everything gets better soon! My mums sick so I’m trying my best to stay away, or vigorously wash my hands after I hang out with her LMAO

[daeniradraconis]

The Leafs Legacy - Auston Matthews

Okay, so @tonyspep you gave me the sweetest idea with your comment! I know you were hoping for a more gentle Auston teaching his daughter to skate, but I thought the first game could be way more exciting! Hope you still love this take though!

So, here's daddy Auston being the proudest coach at his baby girl's first game. A few Leaf players make an appearance too. It's all about the fluff and cuteness! I just needed to write something like this today to make myself smile, and I hope it does the same for you! 💕 For more fun: masterlist❤️

—-

The arena buzzed with excitement—a lively mix of proud parents, devoted fans, and an entire section filled with Toronto Maple Leafs players, all gathered to witness history: the very first game of the newly established Leafs Girls' Program. And at the heart of it all, standing tall behind the bench in his team-issued jacket, was Auston Matthews—head coach of the future generation of hockey stars.

You still remember the promise Auston made when Clara was born. At the time, you thought he was joking about starting a Maple Leafs girls’ team, but that stubborn fool never let it go. For nearly a year, he hounded the directors and senior managers, relentless in his mission. You’re pretty sure they only gave in just to stop him from spamming their inboxes with proposals and cornering them with passionate speeches. But now, seeing the pride in his eyes as he watched his team, you knew—he had won.

From the stands, you held little Auston Jr. close, his tiny Maple Leafs onesie making him look impossibly adorable. At just three months old, he had no clue what was going on, but nestled in your arms, surrounded by the bright lights and the roar of the crowd, he was completely content. And in that moment, so were you.

You and Auston had talked about having more kids after Clara turned one, but life didn’t unfold as expected. Months turned into years, and despite your best efforts, nothing happened. Eventually, you both quietly let the topic go. But then, just as you were getting ready to settle into your life as a family of three, at nearly 36 years old, you found out you were pregnant. It was a shock—a miracle.

When you told Auston, he cried like a baby, overwhelmed by emotion. And to be honest, you were a hot mess too, crying and laughing at the same time.

You may not have ended up with enough kids to fill a hockey team, but you were surrounded by love—cherished by your little ones, who meant the world to you. The small moments of chaos and laughter, the sleepy snuggles, and the endless hugs were all you needed. And as for Auston, he never let you forget, that he was right about one thing: you were an absolute smoke show MILF.

But then, your attention naturally shifted. You glanced over at the ice, where Clara stood, her little figure tiny against the rink. She wore an oversized Leafs jersey, her pink and purple helmet snug on her head, and her tiny hands gripped her stick with surprising confidence. She looked so small out there, but the look in her eyes? That was all Auston. You could see the fire, the determination—just like her dad. In that moment, you knew she was going to make her own mark, and maybe even take after her father in more ways than one.

Auston paced behind the girls on the bench, hands on his hips, barking out encouragement like he was coaching a Stanley Cup Final.

Mitch, sitting right next to you, burst into laughter, nudging William. "Oh my god, look at him," he snorted. "He’s gonna lose his mind before the game’s even over."

William grinned, shaking his head. "I’ve never seen him this hyped, and we’ve played playoff games with him."

The rest of the guys joined in, chuckling at Auston’s visible excitement. Your heart swelled with warmth. You knew how deeply Auston loved his team, so seeing them here—supporting him, even if they were absolutely going to tease him about this later—meant the world to him.

You laughed along with them, bouncing little Auston Jr. in your arms. "He’s ridiculous," you said, shaking your head. "But you all know you’re going to be just as bad in about two seconds." You shot them a teasing grin, but Mitch and William both shook their heads in disbelief, eyes wide with exaggerated innocence.

And sure enough, the game finally started.

"Alright, ladies! Keep your sticks down, eyes on the puck! Clara, get ready!" Auston called out.

Clara looked back at her dad, giving him a firm nod before turning her attention to the faceoff. You couldn’t help but smile—she was only five, yet she carried herself with the same intensity Auston did before a big game.

The puck dropped, and the game was on.

Clara skated forward, her tiny legs working overtime as she chased after the puck. The other girls scrambled in every direction, but somehow, she managed to gain control. She took a few unsteady strides before taking what could only be described as the most adorable shot attempt ever. It wasn’t the hardest shot, and it wobbled a bit, but it went straight into the tiny net.

The arena erupted into cheers.

Auston lost his mind.

"YES, CLARA! THAT’S MY GIRL!" he shouted, jumping up and down. He turned to the Leafs players in the stands, waving his arms wildly. "DID YOU SEE THAT?! GOAL SCORER GENES!"

And as you predicted, Mitch and Willy shot up from their seats, cheering like maniacs.

"Future first-liner!" Mitch called out, clapping his hands.

McMann grinned and joined in. "She’s got her dad’s shot. Go, Clara baby!"

You shook your head, laughing as Auston continued his excited antics on the bench. Clara, meanwhile, looked up at her dad, her little face beaming with pride beneath her helmet.

She skated back to the bench, nearly tripping in her excitement, and Auston scooped her up the second she reached him. He lifted her high in the air, twirling her around.

"You did it, baby girl! First goal of many!"

Clara giggled, throwing her arms around his neck. "Did you see, Daddy? I scored!"

"I saw!" he beamed, pressing a kiss to her helmet. "And I think that means ice cream after the game. What do you think?"

Clara gasped, her little eyes going wide. "With sprinkles?!"

"With all the sprinkles in the world," Auston promised, setting her back down on the ice. "Now go get another one, superstar."

She grinned and skated off, ready for her next shift.

Back in the stands, you turned to the guys beside you, only to find them still on their feet, cheering as if Clara had just won the Cup.

Mitch was cupping his hands around his mouth. "SIGN HER TO AN ELC RIGHT NOW!"

William was whistling, and Bobby nodded approvingly. "She’s a natural."

You smirked. "And here I thought Auston was the only one who’d lose his mind over this."

Mitch turned to you, completely serious. "Are you kidding? That was ELITE."

William grinned. "We should be scouting her already."

You just shook your head, laughing as they continued their proud-uncle act. Meanwhile, Auston stood at the bench, hands on his knees, grinning from ear to ear as he watched his daughter—eyes filled with pride—like she had just scored the game-winning goal in the Stanley Cup Final.

Little Auston Jr. stirred in your arms, and you glanced down at him, brushing a soft kiss against his tiny forehead. "Looks like you’ve got some big skates to fill, little guy."

The game continued, filled with more adorable chaos, but in that moment—watching your husband on the bench, your daughter on the ice, and your newborn son in your arms—you knew one thing for sure.

This was happiness. This was everything you had ever dreamed of—and more.

Note: ELC = Entry-Level Contract. An ELC is the standard contract given to rookie players entering the NHL, typically when they're signing their first contract after being drafted.

[cocosparkel]

Hello!! I saw ur post asking for writing ideas and I have one

Epic!Hermes x reader where reader is a devoted Hermes worshipper, always prays and has offerings for him at his shrine and keeps the place clean. Then reader gets on trouble (maybe some bad people wanting to hurt reader or something) and hermes saves reader!!

Thank u so much!!

Favourite

(Hermes x devotee!reader)

Summary:You are Hermes' favourite devotee. Of course, he doesn't hesitate to prove that, when you are attacked, in his own temple nonetheless.

Warnings: none

Word count: 767

Story tags: fluff, hurt/comfort

A/N hope you like it !

Within a week of your worship of Lord Hermes, he had noticed you.

He had noticed not just the way you would painstakingly clean his altar and his entire temple, the way you would make it a point to offer him different things every day, the way you understood how his temple was not just a place of worship, but a sanctuary for travellers.

Rather, he noticed the way your eyes lit up whenever a new devotee approached you. The way your laugh sounded like a songbird’s song, the way you put your utmost effort to do your work, even for the most menial task.

Hermes noticed it all with such intensity, that he didn't like the effect you and on him. He kept his distance, you deserved much better.

Yet, he would show up and watch over you. You were still his favourite devotee.And you knew that. You knew that there was a reason Hermes would show up, whenever you called for him.

You had a weird relationship with him, but you dared not speak up about its peculiarity, lest you insult Hermes.

It took him all his self control to not whisk you away, when some high and mighty nobleman proposed to you.

He watched helplessly as you agreed, albeit reluctantly.He decided then, that he would keep his distance. You deserved better, and for now, that nobleman was the only acceptable answer.

<••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••>

It was just like any other day. You made your way to the temple, and started cleaning lord Hermes' altar. You tried to not think about how you hadn't seen him ever since your betrothal to that noble man. He was probably very busy, he was a god after all.

You were so engrossed in your work, that you didn't notice the three masked men.

You didn't notice anything wrong, till they were right next to you, and the next second, one of them was pinning your hands behind your back, pressing a knife against your throat.

Apparently, your betrothed had cheated them, and hurting you was the only way to get their revenge.

You struggled against the man's hold, only for the knife to graze your jaw, drawing blood. You cried out as the man shoved you against the wall. “Don't try to be smart.” He snarled.

The other man, who appeared to be their leader, chuckled darkly “My dear, don't fret. As soon as your beloved to-be appears, we will let you go !”

You tried to calm yourself down, convince yourself that your betrothed would show.

But you had no reason to worry after all.

Just moments after you have out a silent prayer to Hermes, the atmosphere of the temple darkened. The men looked around confused. Suddenly, the man holding you, was thrown across the room, and you were pulled into a comforting embrace.

Hermes.

You watched in awe as he effortlessly disarmed the other two men, and tied all three of them together.

“How dare you try and hold my own devotee hostage, in my own temple ?” He said, his voice full of anger.

As they tried to defend themselves, Hermes snapped his finger effectively shutting them up.

He turned his attention to you. “Are you okay?” He asked tenderly.

You nodded.

He traced a hand over your cut, and the pain slowly started diminishing. Placing a kiss on your forehead, he said “My darling, I have controlled myself so far. But I must confess today that I love you so much. Would you find it in you, to ever love me too ?”

You were stunned.

He continued, “I will never let anyone harm you, ever. As long as you are mine, I will devote my life to you, to worshiping, to becoming your favourite. As long as you will have me.”

Tears brimming in your eyes, you stammered, “But my lord, you're a god and I'm- I'm just a normal mortal !”

He frowned at that, “Normal mortals don't make me feel as if I would die, just to touch your face. Normal mortals don't make me want to bring them the stars and even the moon.”

He kissed your cheeks, before continuing, “Mortals don't make me ask my father to make them immortal, so I can have them at my side, for however long eternity is.”

You gasped, he wanted you to be with him forever ?

He finally looked you in the eye and said, "I'll give you the world, darling, if you will have it.”

Slowly, hesitantly, you nodded.

Leaning in, he kissed you.

And everything was perfect, just the way it should be.

AN:

This was so fun to write, so much fluff. But I want to write angst and I don't really have any ideas for that…So, send me requests !

[lostbetweenvampiresandmusic]

I'd love to request something then 🥰. A David & Dwayne x fem!reader. She lives alone in Santa Carla after escaping her family and she has a hard time adjusting, bc she's introvert and insecure about herself (chubby, scars due to abusive and SH past etc etc). The boys are attracted to, her darkness if that makes sense (I hope it's fine!!). The boys wanna take her it with them, & David & Dwayne eventually realizing she's their mate? (fluff is fine, even a bit more if you're fine with that!)

I hope you like this! After finishing this, I realise I kind of strayed away from your prompt, but I hope you'll still enjoy it!💜

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

The room was quiet. Dark. Cold. I sighed as I turned around in my bed, pulling the blankets over me again. Tomorrow I'd really have to call the water company and the electrician. I had bought this place on a whim, needing to have something to call my own, and I hadn't paid any attention to the details mentioned in the listing.

I wish I had now, now that I felt like my toes were freezing off. Still, I thought as I curled up in myself, it was still not as bad as it was before.

It was hours later when I woke up, the sun high in the sky already. I sighed, grabbing a warm sweater and some thick socks to keep myself warm. I quickly brushed my teeth, deciding to ignore breakfast until after I made the necessary phone calls. I took a deep breath as I walked to the landline, thankful that that one was, in fact, working. Silently, I repeated the rehearsed frases in my head.

"Hi, do I speak with the company? I need some help, because the thing isn't working in my new house."

It would be something like that, I figured. Nothing too complicated. Just two easy sentences. I could do this. I picked up the phone, dialling the number for the watercompany. It rang.

Once. Twice.

Please leave a message after -

Frustrated, I dropped the horn on its hook, redialing the number. This time, I had more luck getting an answer.

"Yeah?"

"You're the watercompany, right?" I asked, my voice more unsure than I would have liked.

"Yeah."

"My house isn't connected, it seems. Can that like - maybe, I don't know, ehm - be fixed? I mean," I laughed, although it was more out of awkwardness and despair than out of actual joy, "I'd really like to have some water here."

"Yeah."

I sighed, giving more of my information. All the guy on the phone said was yeah, as if he had never learnt to speak another word whatsoever. Still, I had been told that someone would be by this afternoon. I then rang the electrician, who was way more pleasant on the phone. He was in the area, offering to come by within the hour.

I'd agreed readily.

The electrician, Henry, a man who reminded me of my late grandfather, was done quickly. It had been a matter of some cables not connecting well, and now I was the proud owner of a house with a working light bulb. Small victories, and all that.

"So, what made you decide to move to the murder capital of the world?"

"I needed a fresh start - wait, did you say murder capital?" I asked with a frown as I walked him to the door.

He nodded. "Lots of people end up missing or dead. We don't know why, but it happens. Hence the name."

"Crap... that's why the house was so cheep."

"Maybe," the man chuckled, "but despite there being some truths to the disappearances, I doubt you'd be in any danger. You don't seem like a party animal to me."

I nodded. "So, as long as I stay clear from parties I'd be fine?"

"Most likely, yeah. Anyways, don't stress about it too much. You're young, go to the boardwalk some time, and enjoy yourself."

He had been gone for less than ten minutes, or some guy from the watercompany rang the doorbell, and went to work without saying much to me.

It was hours later when he was done, but I had water. And electricity. I could cook, shower, bathe - I sighed as I let myself fall on the couch, I was too tired to do any of those things. There had been too many people today, and I just needed some desperate alone time just for me. I was really thankful now that I'd bought some frozen pizzas on my way here, and as I turned the oven on, I couldn't help but wonder if moving here, leaving home and all it's miseries behind, if it was worth it.

"Someone moved into the old Emerson place," Paul stated as he entered the cave. He had a plastic bag in his hand, and couple of boxes with Chinese filling it.

"So?" David looked at him.

"Just thought you should know," he shrugged. It didn't matter much, but every since that night, a couple of years ago, they avoided that area of town as much as they could.

"As long as they don't go digging in the backyard, we have nothing to worry about, " Dwayne shrugged.

"She doesn't seem the type."

"You stayed long enough to stalk her?" Marko chuckled, shaking his head.

Paul threw a carton box towards him, grinning as it hit his head. "Nope, I just don't think that this quiet thing would go outside."

I woke up late the next day. I had only been here for a few days, and I had not once woken up before noon. Before, I always awoke around six thirty, doing my chores and other things that needed to be done. Never, not ever, had I been able to sleep in. So why was I able to now?

Was it because I finally had a place of my own? I finally experienced freedom? Or was i getting sick?

I shook my head, taking a deep breath as I got up. Today, I needed to make a trip to the boardwalk. I needed some paints for my rooms, and maybe it would be good for me to actually leave the house for once. Not that I necessarily liked the idea, but I also knew that interacting with others would be good. If only for a little while.

I spent the rest of the day getting ready. I picked some loose-fitting clothing, warm enough for the autumn breeze that was blowing coldly over Santa Carla. I pulled on some black leather boots, brushing my hair quickly as I decided to forgo any makeup for today. This wasn't going to be a long trip.

It was nearing sunset as I entered the boardwalk, the place more crowded than I would have liked. People were everywhere, pushing and moving, tugging others along. I had no choice but to let myself drift along with the crowd, slowly making my way away from the stream when I saw a small hardware store located near what seemed to be a videostore.

I was thankful to no longer be stuck in the crowd and pushed the door to the store open, right into someone's face. I froze, staring wide-eyed at the man in front of me. He was tall, an almost scary look on his face as he looked at me, his brunet hair falling down his face.

"I- I am so sorry, I didn't-"

He looked at me, causing me to feel flustered. He truly was rather handsome. Too handsome for me, I knew that. But still, one can dream, right?

"It's fine," he said, his voice deeper than I'd expected. I looked after him as he left, shaking my head slightly as I tried to remove his image from my brain. I quickly picked some paints - a dark blue and ocher yellow, a colourmatch I'd loved for ages - and paid for them. I left the store, walking down the boardwalk to the entrance.

It was getting busier and I just wanted to go home. I walked further, the plastic bag with paint cans in my hands as I heard the rumbling engine of a motorcycle behind me.

"You need a ride?"

I looked up and saw that it was the guy I'd run into in the hardware store.

"It's alright," I said quietly, not sure if he heard me.

"You sure? There are not too many houses around here, and it's not a good idea to be out alone in the dark."

I shook my head, remembering how former classmates repeatedly reassured me that I didn't have to worry about that because kidnappers and rapists would pick someone prettier. Assholes that they were. I sighed, looking at the guy.

"Why would you offer me a ride?"

He shrugged. "Why not? Besides, it's already getting late, and I imagine you'd rather be home before morning."

I looked at my watch and realised he was right. "Thank you," I said gratefully as I got on the back of his bike with his assistance. I introduced myself, but he didn't respond with his name. Instead he drove off, straight to my home.

"How do you know where I live?" I asked him confused as I got off.

"This was the only house for sale in the last couple of weeks. And since you're new-"

"Am I that obvious?"

"No," he gave me a small smile, "we just come down to the boardwalk almost daily. We know everyone's faces, just not yours. Not yet."

"Maybe you will," I said quietly, quietly wondering what it was that made me say this. As if I'd ever go back to the boardwalk while it was so busy at night.

"I'll see you around, love," he said, stepping back on his bike.

"Wait, what's you're name?"

"I'm Dwayne."

With that he drove off.

"And?" David looked at Dwayne as he entered the cave last.

"She's sweet. Harmless." He couldn't help but grin. "There's something about her."

"Yeah?"

"She's not just another run away. There's something more. Like she's seen things that she shouldn't have."

David nodded. "You think it is her?"

Dwayne thought about it. For days, the two of them had felt the pull of a third and final mate bond. The bond was forming quickly and steadily, and soon, they'd be able to follow their gut feeling towards their mate. But for now? Dwayne nodded.

"She seemed more level-headed than us, but I am quite certain she can live like we do."

"Maybe I'll meet her tomorrow," David shrugged, standing up. "If i come to the same conclusion as you, we'll need to make her ours."

I groaned as I opened my fridge. All day, I had been working on painting my room, forgetting the necessity of making a trip to the grocery store. Now it was night, I had yet to eat dinner, and all I had in my fridge was an old bottle of coke.

"Guess I'll go to the boardwalk..." I mumbled, taking my paint spattered clothes of and quickly changing into something clean. I didn't stop to look in the mirror before I went, a thing I would regret later on, I'm certain. At that moment, it didn't matter. I needed food, and the only place I was going to get that at this hour was the boardwalk.

It took me about an hour to get there, and I had just enough luck on my side that the Chinese place was still open and serving as I entered. I greeted the owner, placed my order, and sat down on a bench, waiting for my order to be called.

"So you've been painting all day, hm?" I looked up, seeing two men in front of me. Dwayne and some other guy.

"How did you know?" I frowned slightly.

"You've got a blue streak on your cheek."

I tried to stand up to go to the bathroom to clean myself up, but found myself unable to do so as the guy went to sit down next to me. I shoved over a bit, feeling just the slightest hint uncomfortable.

"How do you like Santa Carla?"

"I don't know, it's okay, I guess?" I shrugged.

"You haven't had a chance to see it?" Dwayne asked. I shook my head.

"I've got a lot to do at home, and-" I shook my head. It didn't matter.

"And what?" The other guy, who had yet to introduce himself, looked at me.

"I just don't like crowds," I decided quickly before asking his name.

"David," he said, "and what if we can over you Santa Carla without the crowds?"

"Good luck with that," I muttered, sceptical. As if that was ever going to happen.

"No, you'll see," Dwayne chuckled, "David's right. How about we pick you up tomorrow and show you around?"

I was quiet for a moment, before nodding. "What time?"

"Ten. Things will have quieted down here."

Time passed quickly, and as I woke up the next afternoon, I couldn't help but wonder why i had agreed to this date. I had liked the conversation we'd had, sure. But to go on a date? Later that evening, David had even explicitly called it that, and I hadn't even corrected him. And then a date with the two of them?

I didn't mind that, truly, they were both incredibly handsome and as far as I could tell with how little I know them, kind and somewhat sweet - but still. It was a bit, odd, wasn't it?

The rest of the day, I worked on decorating my house, making sure I was ready to go by ten. I'd opted to wear a dress, liking the way it flowed around my legs. Despite the warmth of the evening, I decided to wear a black cardigan on top, completing my outfit.

"Damn," Dwayne grinned as he saw me, causing me to smile shyly. David stood behind him, waiting on his bike.

"You look nice," he said as he offered me a seat. I got on behind him, and we made our way to the boardwalk.

Just as he had promised, like they'd both promised, the boardwalk was practically empty tonight. I didn't know how they'd done it, but it felt incredible. No crowds to drown in, no people pulling you one way when you wanted to go another... I let the two of them guide me over the boardwalk, taking me on rides. We talked about everything, from favourite colours to deepest fears, from hobbies to pet peeves - it was incredible to get to know them, to see them and to let them get to know me.

Even though I had only known Dwayne for three days and David for two, I felt like I had known them all my life, like they were a missing piece of the puzzle I called myself.

As they said goodbye when it was close to sunrise, I couldn't help but melt in their arms as they both pressed a soft kiss on my cheek.

Yeah, I decided quietly. This was it.

In the days that followed, I kept hanging out with them. They'd stop by sometime during the night, taking me to the boardwalk whenever most of the crowds had left. I had met their friends, Paul and Marko, and I had a hard time admitting to myself that I actually enjoyed their company.

I had known them for a month when they took me to their place, this strange yet almost magical cave. It was there that they told me what they were.

I hadn't known what to do, so I hadn't done anything. It was a horrifying thought, but then again, a part of me truly loved them. A part of me couldn't live without them. So, despite refusing to drink and become one of them, I did accept them.

It just took me a day or two. Three.

But once I did accept it, our bond grew only stronger. No longer could I imagine not spending the night with them. No longer could I stand the thought of not seeing them. I stayed over at their place, sleeping between them almost as often as they stayed at mine. We talked, more deeply than before, them answering as honest as they could when I asked them about their immortality.

It was then, five weeks after I learnt what they were, three months after I met them, that i decided to become like them. I was theirs, and I couldn't live with the thought of letting them wake up one day without me. Nor did I want to wake up without them.

So, when David offered once again, I drank, sealing my fate as their mate.

[etherealeowyn]

Can't Take My Eyes off You - Johnny Storm x Reader

Word Count: 2,418

I really liked how this story came out, and I'm contemplating writing a second part for this piece! Let me know if you want part 2!

Johnny dialed Y/n’s number on the rotary phone, and held it up to his ear, taking a deep breath as he tried to calm himself to ask the woman out.

He had only talked to her briefly earlier in the day, but he could tell that this girl was special, so much so that he wasn’t about to leave the café where she worked without getting her number.

He stared at the small, lined piece of paper in his hand, adorned with her nice handwriting, hoping she had given him her real number instead of a fake one.

“Hello?” a voice asked on the other line, and Johnny couldn’t stop a smile from forming when he recognized her voice.

“Hi, this is Johnny, the guy from the café earlier,” he spoke, his voice slightly shaky from nerves.

“Yes, I remember you,” Y/n spoke with a little laugh, finding his nervousness cute.

“Haha I’m glad, I got tickets to see Frankie Valli tomorrow, and I was wondering if you’d like to go with me. I understand if you can’t, but I have a feeling I’d enjoy myself a lot more if you were there with me,” he responded, letting a smirk tug at the corners of his mouth.

“In that case, I would love to go with you,” she replied, and it was obvious she was smiling just by hearing the tone of her voice.

“Perfect, just give me your address and I’ll pick you up at 6,” he excitedly said, writing down her address on the other side of the paper he held.

The two exchanged information before he placed the phone down and hung up, letting out a deep sigh of relief knowing that everything went exactly how he wanted it to. He fell back onto his bed and stared at the ceiling, letting his mind run rampant with thoughts about tomorrow, and how pretty he knew Y/n would look.

Y/n on the other hand, wasn’t as relaxed, she frantically ran over to her closet and began pulling out a series of different dresses, in an attempt to find one she believed would look the best. She’d slip one on and then immediately tear it off after she deemed it wasn’t the best option.

That was until she pulled on a pastel yellow chiffon dress that was fitted around her torso and flared below her waist. It was poofy, but not too much, and it fell to just about knee length. It was elegant, but at the same time, it was playful. She deemed it to be perfect.

She hung it up in her room and pulled out a pair of heels that matched perfectly, and in her opinion made her legs look stunning.

The second she picked everything out, she happily jumped up and down, unable to contain her excitement for tomorrow.

It took her forever to fall asleep that night, and it felt like an eternity waiting for the morning to arrive. But she managed to get a little sleep, just enough to make sure she had enough energy for the day ahead of her.

Johnny began to get ready, slipping on a pair of grey dress pants and tucking in his white button-up shirt. He grabbed a tie from inside his dresser drawer, and wrapped it around his neck, leaning closer to the mirror as he adjusted it. His tongue partially stuck out of his mouth in concentration, and his body had become tense, yet all that stress drained from his body when he managed to get everything to look right.

He looked down at his silver watch and saw that it was about 5:15, so he grabbed his keys and began to walk to where his car was parked. Johnny turned the key into the driver’s side door and opened it before jumping in and adjusting the radio.

He left a little bit early so he could stop at the flower shop to pick her up something because he wanted to do everything in his power to make sure Y/n would enjoy this date. To be completely and utterly honest, he was overwhelmed when he saw the variety of bouquets that lined the store, but he ended up getting a mixture of yellow, orange, and pink roses.

Setting them gently on the passenger seat, he looked at the address written on the lined piece of paper and headed to her house.

The house was well-kept, and Johnny could tell there was a sort of warmth radiating from it. It seemed like one of those houses where good memories were made, and it made him hope one day that he could have something like that for himself.

Walking up the pathway, he held the flowers and adjusted his tie one more time before he rang the doorbell. His throat tightened from nerves as he waited for someone to answer the door, and every second that went by felt like an eternity.

He composed himself one final time when he heard the door unlock, and he couldn’t help but smile when Y/n appeared in front of him. Johnny stood there for a moment in awe of the woman standing in front of him, because her dress clung to her body perfectly, and he loved the way that her hair was down, yet it curled up at the ends.

“You look absolutely beautiful,” Johnny started, “I got you these, I wasn’t sure what your favorite flower was, but I tried to pick out something that was pretty like you.”

He couldn’t stop a rosy blush from appearing on his face when he handed her the flowers. Y/n eagerly took them, and pulled them towards her nose, closing her eyes as she inhaled the fresh scent.

“Thank you, I love roses,” Y/n excitedly responded, looking up at him gleaming.

“You can come in for a second while I put these in water,” she continued, motioning for him to enter with her free hand.

Johnny stepped inside, as Y/n closed the door behind, and immediately he could smell the sweet aroma of baked goods fresh out of the oven. She didn’t take a very long time to put the flowers in a vase, but as he waited, his eyes followed her every move.

He watched as her delicate, manicured hands gently unwrapped the flowers and placed them in the crystal glass. Y/n smiled as she carefully arranged the roses to make sure that they were all situated properly, and Johnny felt like his heart was going to burst right there on the spot.

He hardly knew the woman, yet he was already so undoubtedly infatuated with her that he wasn’t sure what he would do if she didn’t like him.

“Johnny, they look absolutely gorgeous, thank you so much,” Y/n told him, as she set the vase on the counter in front of him, so he could admire the purchase he made.

“Of course, you ready to go?” Johnny asked, holding out his hand for her to take/

She grabbed it before replying, “Definitely, I’m so excited,” and letting her lead her to his car.

Y/n couldn’t help but find his car to be stunning, she loved the baby-blue color of it, plus it was obvious that he kept incredibly good care of it. She watched in admiration as his hand pulled open the passenger side door, and he sweetly smiled at her, waiting until she was inside and situated before closing it for her. He walked around to the other side of the car and hopped in, before starting the ignition and pulling out into the street.

The entire way there, the pair didn’t shut up, it didn’t matter what the topic of conversation was. It was especially nice because both felt more comfortable in the presence of each other by the time Johnny pulled up to the venue.

Y/n could see people waiting outside, but there wasn’t a super long line, which was surprising to her because Frankie Valli & The Four Seasons were pretty big at the time. Their music was playing on the radio practically all the time.

Johnny got out of the car and handed his keys to the valet, before letting Y/n out of the car and taking her straight to the door of the venue, instead of waiting in the line.

“Hey Johnny, have a nice night,” security spoke, as he pulled back the velvet rope blocking the entrance.

Once they got far enough away inside, Y/n questioned, “How’d you know that guy?” surprised by their quick entry.

She noticed that people were staring at them as they walked by, but she just figured it was because they cut the line, now that she thought about it, it was odd because no one looked angry. Rather, they looked more shocked than anything.

“Well, you see, I kind of have an important job,” Johnny responded, rubbing the back of his neck with one of his free hands, he was nervous to tell her about his powers, but at the same time, it was refreshing that she didn’t know who he was. Mostly because it prevented her from having any preconceived notions about him.

“Oh yeah? What do you do?” Y/n asked sweetly, holding onto his arm and turning her head to look at him.

“Uh, I’m part of the Fantastic Four, I have these… powers,” he said, and he expected her to have a drastic, expressive reaction, but she didn’t. However, that didn’t stop his heart from frantically pounding in his chest.

“Why do you look so ashamed, that sounds incredible,” she replied slightly furrowing her brows, as her eyes lit up in some sort of astonishment.

“I guess I thought you’d think I’m some kind of weirdo or freak,” He scoffed, staring down at the ground in front of him.

“I certainly don’t think you’re a freak, and who cares if you’re a weirdo, I consider myself one,” Y/n laughed, “And to be completely honest, it sounds like you’re a hero, which I deeply admire. I could tell you have a good heart.”

Johnny was mildly taken aback by her comment, mostly because he didn’t ever truly think he was a hero. Yes, he did heroic things, but he was much too humble to call himself a hero. But the way the words rolled off her tongue, and the admiration behind her gaze made him feel good. People had told him he was special before, yet the genuine nature of Y/n’s words made him believe it.

His face felt hot as a blush overtook his features, and for a second, he was speechless. The only thing he managed to do at that moment was smile, as he hastily scrambled to come up with a sentence.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been this flustered before,” Johnny replied, letting out a breathy laugh, “I’m not used to getting complimented so sincerely, especially by a woman as beautiful as you.”

“Aww thank you, if it makes you feel any better, you look incredibly cute when you’re all flustered,” she giggled, grabbing a drink for him and herself off the tray of one of the bartenders walking around.

He took a sip from his glass before responding, “I’m glad you think so, if I was any redder, I think I’d turn into a tomato.”

“Don’t worry, you’re far from looking like a tomato, to be completely honest, I’m kind of jealous because when you blush it makes the color of your eyes pop,” she joked, though she wasn’t lying one bit, his eyes did look extremely blue.

Their conversation was cut short though when the lights dimmed, and a man walked on stage announcing that the concert was about to begin.

“Would you rather sit down at one of the tables, or go dance?” Johnny whispered, leaning in close to the woman’s ear. He was content regardless of what her answer was because honestly, he just wanted to be close to her.

“I’d love to dance with you,” Y/n responded, looking at the man with a smirk on her face.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” he spoke, holding her hand and walking her over to the dance floor where couples were already beginning to congregate.

Johnny’s hands softly held onto her hips, as Y/n’s arms draped around his neck. The two swayed with one another as the band began to play a slowed-down version of Can’t Take My Eyes off You.

You're just too good to be true Can't take my eyes off of you

Y/n’s head was tilted up slightly, just enough so that the two could maintain eye contact. Though they didn’t say a word, it was clear that both were enjoying themselves, just by the way their eyes were gleaming.

You'd be like Heaven to touch I wanna hold you so much

“I know this might be forward, but can I kiss you?” Johnny asked, studying the woman’s face for an answer before she even said anything.

“Absolutely,” she responded, her eyes that were once staring into his, now lowering until they were fixated on his lips before fluttering upwards once again.

He removed one of his hands from the woman’s waist and used it to cup the side of her cheek, leaning towards her until his lips connected with hers. The kiss was urgent, yet at the same time tender, and within a couple of seconds, Y/n stepped closer to the man limiting the space between them.

At long last love has arrived And I thank God I'm alive

When their lips disconnected, they pulled away slowly, letting their eyes slowly flutter open. Seemingly still lost in the trance of the kiss they shared.

Johnny’s hand lowered back down to her waist, and he pulled Y/n closer to her body until it was pressed up against his. Her head found comfort lying against his chest, listening to his heartbeat almost in time with the music. He pressed a kiss on the top of her head, before smiling to himself as he looked down at the woman in his arms.

He hadn’t been this happy in a long time, and he was savoring every second of the feeling. Johnny didn’t say a single word because he was afraid that he would ruin the moment, so instead, he simply held her tighter and desperately hoped this was going to be the start of a new chapter in his life.

You're just too good to be true Can't take my eyes off you

[sickskz]

Hiii! Loved your fic I'm sure ur gonna be amazing. I just wanted to ask if u could write a sickfic where Jisung catches a head cold and spends the whole week sneezing. If you could add some of the members it would be great! If you wanna add something more feel free to.

THANK YOU😭

Thank you so much! As I started this I realised I haven’t dabbled as much in snz as I have in emeto, and I found myself googling “how to write the sound of a sneeze”🫡 full on researching haha

I hope this is fulfilling to your wishes! <3

Sickie: Han

Caretakers: Lee Know, Seungmin

Smile, sneeze, repeat

It started with a sniffle one ordinary Tuesday morning, a tickle in his nose that wouldn’t relent no matter what he did.

Jisung brushed it off, convinced it was nothing more than a mild cold. Nothing he couldn’t handle. His energy was still high, and he didn’t have a fever or anything. Nothing that was particularly taxing other than the persistent tickle and occasional sneeze.

By the time Wednesday rolled around, the tickle had started evolving into something far more persistent.

During the morning hours, it grew into an annoying pressure in his sinuses that gave room for a blooming headache. The sneezes grew more frequent, as if his body was desperately trying to rid him of whatever was infiltrating his airways. Still, Jisung didn’t feel that bad. The sneezing was annoying, sure, but he didn’t feel sick. Not yet, anyways.

Seungmin had been the first to comment on it, narrowing his eyes pointedly at Jisung during breakfast.

“You’ve been sneezing a lot” he remarked, looking unimpressed as he took a sip of his coffee.

Jisung chuckled softly and waved him off with a sniffle. “It’s just a little cold, I’ll be fine”

Seungmin didn’t look convinced, but he couldn’t be bothered to press on the matter either.

Before their scheduled dance practice in the evening, Jisung had tried everything he could think of to relieve his symptoms: blowing his nose, drinking hot tea, nasal spray, even inhaling steam infused with essential oils. But nothing gave him the relief he craved.

The pressure was still there, the pain increasing sharply whenever he sneezed or bent forward. Which, unfortunately, was a lot.

By the time they pulled up to the studio, Jisung had lost count of how many times he’d sneezed. His head felt heavy, his body a little sluggish, but he chalked it up to exhaustion. After all, their schedules had been packed the last couple of weeks. They were all tired. It made sense.

Warming up wasn’t too bad. Jisung stood at the back of the group, tissues safely stuffed in his pockets. The physical activity actually seemed to clear his head a little, and he was able to push through rather easily. His nose was runny, and he sneezed a couple of times, but the ache in his muscles lessened as he limbered up.

However, as they started working on actual choreography, things quickly took a turn for the worse.

The first run through was fine. He was a little slower than usual, but he managed to keep up with the steps without too much trouble. His sneezes were on beat for a lot of it, and they didn’t throw him off enough to ruin the flow. As the music stopped, Jisung braced himself against his knees, trying to catch his breath- only for it to hitch.

“Hhhh’ksssh! Hhhh’KTCHH!”

The sneezes caught him a little off guard, and Jisung quickly pressed a tissue to his nose, wiping it shyly.

“Sorry-“ his voice was thick, his vision wavering a little as he collected himself. He could feel the eyes of his band members on him, but he ignored it for the most part, focusing on steadying his breath.

“Gee, bless you!” Felix sang out from the opposite side of the room, snickering softly.

Jisung huffed a quiet laugh, lips tugging into a small smile. “Thanks”

Chan’s gaze lingered on him a little longer before he spoke up. “Alright everyone, let’s do that one more time, from the top”

Jisung nodded, swiping at his nose again before getting into position.

During the second run through, Jisung had to admit he was feeling a little worse for wear. The pressure in his sinuses made him feel like his eyes were going to pop out of their sockets, the pain amplified whenever he bent forward and making him nauseatingly dizzy.

The choreography was as always sharp and quick, but Jisung could feel himself struggle to maintain his usual fluidity. His movements felt enervated, his limbs slow to react to his will. The further they got along, the further his movements were lagging behind.

It felt like his body was running on a defect autopilot. He vaguely noticed himself sweating more than usual as well, a damp heat pressing against his skin that had nothing to do with exertion.

At a particularly sharp shift in position, the pain in his sinuses flared, and his breath caught in his throat.

“Huh’tsch! Hhh-tsshhh! Huh’ekTSHIEW!”

His body pitched forward with the force of the sneezes that tore through him, each one stronger than the last. The potency of had his head spinning so much that his steps faltered, making him completely miss his mark. He collided into Hyunjin, who let out a sharp breath of his own before swiftly steadying Jisung by his waist.

“Woah, are you okay?” Hyunjin asked, looking down at him with big eyes as Jisung still stood bent over, holding his nose. He tried to ignore the dizziness that swirled in his head, shutting his eyes briefly as he waited oft the world to stop spinning.

Jisung cleared his throat with a wince and sniffled as he slowly straightened up again. His lips jutted out into a pout as the music was promptly cut off, leaving him to feel awfully exposed.

“Yeah, I’m-I’m good…. Sorry about that-” He croaked, keeping his gaze locked in his feet. His throat had started feeling a little raw, but it wasn’t excruciating. Besides, they were dancing, not singing. He could push through.. right?

“Nonesense” Lee Know spoke up, suddenly right beside him. His eyes flickered over Jisungs face, taking in the glassy eyes and the pinkish hue on his cheekbones and nose. “You’re sneezing all over the place. Plus, you look like shit”

Jisung snorted at that, looking askance to avoid his insistent gaze. “Wow, thanks, hyung. You really know how to fladter me..” he muttered, before pitching forward into his sleeve again.

“Hh’iich- uhh, hh’ihhcht!”

“That’s, like, the tenth time in five minutes” Seungmin informed with a sigh, having taken over Hyunjins place at his left.

“It’s not-“ Jisungs breath hitched again, and he buried his nose in his sleeve, trying to stifle yet another sneeze. “-not that bad…” before he even had the time to ask Seungmin why the hell he was even keeping count, Lee Know spoke again.

“Right. Not that bad” Lee Know narrowed his eyes at him, crossing his arms over his chest. He cleared his throat, gazing at the clock hung on the wall.

“Break. Take ten minutes” he announced to the room, leaving no room for argument as he watched the other stray kids scatter.

“No-” Jisung said quickly, looking up at Lee Know with pleading eyes. Guilt clawed at his chest, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. “No, I can continue- p-please, I don’ wan..”

Lee Know raised an eyebrow and looked at Seungmin with a baffled look, silently asking something along the lines of ‘are you hearing this?’

Seungmin just shook his head, rolling his eyes in disbelief.

Lee Know sighed deeply, exasperated yet concerned as he saw the tears stinging in Jisungs eyes. “Han-ah, are you serious right now? You can’t be serious…”

“Hhh’tssskk—“

Jisung hung his head a little as he sniffled, still not meeting his piercing gaze. “I’b.. fide” he insisted, but his congested voice did nothing to help his case.

Seungmin let out a short, humourless laugh. “Right.. Because nearly knocking Hyunjin over mid-sneeze is totally part of the routine.”

Jisung scowled, but before he could argue, Lee Know grabbed his wrist and tugged him toward the couch at the back of the studio.

“Sit”

Jisung sighed as he plopped down on the black couch, admitting to his defeat. His body slumped forward, elbows resting against his knees as he buried his face in his hands. Now that he had a moment to pause and take it all in, he had to admit… he felt pretty awful.

A shiver ran down his spine as the air from the AC hit his skin, goosebumps prickling across his arms. He tensed as he felt weight land on his shoulder, peeking up over his fingers to see Lee Know draping his jacket around him.

“Tsk… You’re so dumb sometimes” The older dancer muttered, though there was no malice in his words. Jisung shut his eyes, his breath a little shaky. “Yeah…”

Lee Know sat down beside him on the couch, and Jisung instinctively shifted against him, seeking out any comfort he could find. To his relief, Lee Know didn’t hesitate, wordlessly pulling him closer and draping an arm over his shoulders.

“Here”

Jisung fluttered his eyes open again to see Seungmin standing in front of them, holding out a water bottle.

“You should drink something. You’re probably dehydrated” He explained, voice calm but insisting. Jisung nodded as he feebly reached out for the bottle, unscrewing the cap with trembling fingers.

He took a long sip. The coolness of the water felt soothing to his sore throat, but swallowing still made him grimace with discomfort.

Jisung sniffeled pathetically, basking in the heat Lee Know provided as his body practically melted against him. His eyes felt heavy, so he let them fall shut again.

“You’re burning up” Lee Know commented softly, brushing his fingers across Jisungs flushed cheek. “Why didn’t you just say you were sick?”

“I jus’.. I didn’ wan’o slow us dowd.. i’s jus’ a cold, anyway… ugh, we hab-have so much to do..” Jisung mumbled petulantly, clutching a box of tissues to his chest like it was a security blanket.

“Yeah, and how’s that working out for you?” Seungmin chided, gently reaching out to brush some rogue strands of hair out of Jisungs face.

Jisung didn’t answer, his lips pulling into a pout as he sank further into the couch, exhausted, and a little ashamed. The guilt weighed on him, pressing on his chest in an almost suffocating manner.

“It’s okay to take a break, Hannie-hyung” Seungmin said, noticing the gloomy look on Jisungs face as he reclined in his seat. “You can’t help being sick, y’know? The only thing you can control is how much you rest and allow yourself to actually recover..”

Jisung didn’t respond, but he knew Seungmin was right. Of course he did.

He rubbed at his eyes, breathing shakily as his lips wobbled dangerously close to the edge. He didn’t want to cry. He was too tired for that. Save it for later.

There was a beat of silence before Lee Know nudged his shoulder lightly, pulling him out of his foggy thoughts.

“Come on” he said “ I already talked to Chan, I’m taking you home”

Jisung blinked, stunned, before furrowing his brows.

“But-“

“No, no buts. You’re not coming back here until you’re better”

Jisung huffed in exasperation, but there was no backup to gather from Seungmin. No way to whine himself out of this one. Resigned, he rolled his face against Lee Knows shoulder, peeking up at him with bleary eyes.

“Will you s’ay wity be..?” Jisung hadn’t expected his voice to be as frail as it was, so weak and feeble, but it was an honest reflection of how he felt. The thought of being alone, left to spiral into a web of ‘I’m falling behind’ and ‘I need to catch up’, made his blood run cold.

There was a flicker of emotion that ran through Lee Knows eyes, too fast for him to really capture what it was.

“Well, duh.” Lee Know sighed as if it was the most obvious thing in the world “I’m not trusting you to be on your own, so I guess I’ll have to babysit you”

Lee Know crossed his arms in mock annoyance, but Jisung couldn’t help but feel a small smile tug at his lips at his antics. He knew he didn’t really mind, and he appreciated that more than he would ever know.

Seungmin stood silently against the wall beside them, watching the scene unfold. His gaze was soft, his eyes carrying a fondness that Jisung rarely saw. After a moment of thought, the younger pushed off the wall and crouched down in front of his hyungs, placing his hands gently on Jisungs knees.

“Hey..” Seungmin started, narrowing his eyes as he met Jisungs gaze. “Go rest up, okay? Don’t do anything stupid…”

“I won’..” Jisung promised, though it wasn’t entirely convincing. The guilt still gnawed at him, the fear of falling behind before their upcoming performances lingering in the back of his mind.

Seungmin must have sensed the doubt that still clung to him, because without warning, he reached out and lightly flicked his forehead. Not hard enough to hurt, but enough to snap him out of his thoughts.

“Hey-ow!” Jisung protested with a whine, pouting as he rubbed his forehead.

“That’s for overthinking” Seungmin explained, smirking in satisfaction as he stood back up.

Lee Know chuckled beside him, amused by the exchange. He gave Jisungs arm a comforting squeeze before moving to stand up. “Alright, let’s get going” He readjusted the jacket around Jisungs shoulder before reaching out his hand, waiting for him to follow his movement.

Jisung hesitated for a moment, eyes flickering to Seungmin, who gave him an encouraging nod. “We’ll be fine here.” He promised, and that was enough for him to gather some strength.

Slowly, Jisung rose from the couch, his body heavy with the fever that had slowly crept in and numbed his senses. It was as if his entire body was made of lead, and he was grateful for Lee Knows hand steadying him by the waist as he swayed.

Seungmin, ever the pragmatic, picked up the box of tissues left on the couch and pressed it back to Jisungs chest. “Don’t forget these. Now get out before you spread your germs any more”

Jisung sighed a little, touched by the gesture despite Seungmins typically blunt delivery. "Thanks, Minnie."

Lee Know guided him outside the studio with an arm securely around his body, and Jisung leaned on him heavily, as if his body wouldn’t be able to move on its own accord. The lump in his throat made him wince, his nose wouldn’t stop running and he was starting to feel a little queasy from congestion clogging up his sinuses. Safe to say, he was looking forward to be home in his bed again.

The car ride was quiet, save for the gentle hum of the engine and the occasional sneeze Jisung stifled into his elbow. As soon as Jisung sank into the passenger seat, he let out a sigh, his head tipping back against the headrest. Lee Know immediately turned on the seat warmer, and Jisung curled up, drawing his feet up to make himself comfortable.

Lee Know glanced over at him every now and again, a mix of concern and care etched into his features. He saw the way Jisung hugged onto himself, his eyelashes brushing against his pallid yet flushed cheeks, and the older reached over to gently pat his thigh. “It’s okay, just try to get some rest”

Jisung didn’t need further encouragement. The soothing warmth of the seat wrapped around him like the embrace of an old friend, easing the chill from his body. With each passing second, he felt his body surrendering moreto the comfort of the familiar surroundings, and his congested breaths evened out as he allowed himself to drift into a fevered slumber.

[emotionalhottiee]

Made For Each Other!

Chapter 4: Butterflies!

Aleah

After pulling myself together i got back to work on the social media platforms. Which consisted of trimming videos to post for the socials and queuing up scheduled post. I sent Paul a quick text just to go over everything and to check in to see if he needed me to do anything else. Once he let me know i was all set, i made my way to the gorilla to get some additional behind the scenes footage. And just watch the rest of RAW. I definitely can see why people get super attached the wrestling it brings out all the emotions.

As i sat down watching, the guys from earlier came into the gorilla to get ready for their segment. And the man that i had bumped into earlier was standing in front of me. His 6 foot something frame towering over me.

“Hey Girl, happy to run into you again” he stated in a higher pitched voice mimicking a woman. I’m not gonna lie it was actual funny in a corny kinda way. Once my little laughing spell was over he switched back to his regular deep voice. “My name is Austin” he stated, reaching his hand out for me to shake. I returned the hand shake while introducing myself. “It’s a pleasure to meet you” he said showing me all 32 of his pearly white teeth.

I got the feeling he was going to try to kiss my hand, but it almost felt as if he stopped himself. He must have read my body language. At least that’s what i was hoping. Feeling a sense of relief that he didn’t do that he released my hand after what felt like forever.

Feeling the small bit of tension in the air. His friend finally introduced himself “Nice to meet you Aleah, i’m Grayson” he spoke in a thick Australian accent “Nice to meet you too.” I replied sending him a small warm smile.

We dove into the conversation about me being the new girl around here. And my mind wandered off thinking about how many more times, i was going to have to have this conversation. But my thoughts were interrupted by Graysons very loud obnoxious laugh. Pretending that i was listening to what he was saying i joined in on the laugh. Totally clueless as to what i was actually laughing at.

Jey

Making my way out of my dressing room, i was walking towards the gorilla a few minutes early, just so i could hang out before my segment. When i heard Graysons loud ass laugh. Seeing Him and Austin there i peeped Aleah was standing in front of them. The three of them, just laughing their asses off.

I’m not gonna lie i felt a lil jealous seeing them all up in my girls face. I’m tripping hard. I don’t know what came over me, but i decided to claim what’s mine. So i walked over to them, making sure to stand right next to Aleah. Putting my arm around her shoulder. The look on Austin & Graysons face quickly changed from amusement to confusion. Looking down at Aleah, she looked like the cutest little deer caught in the headlights. Clearly that caught the three of them off guard. Not trying to make myself look crazy, i tried to lighten the mood. “What’s so funny yall?” I asked.

I feel like i ruined the mood completely.

“Oh nothing i was just telling Aleah, a little yarn from back home mate” Grayson replied trying to ease the tension. I glanced back down at Aleah and she went from looking like a deer caught in the headlights, to more a confused look. But she still wore a small smile. Fuck, i hope im not making a myself look like an creep.

Lucky the awkward tension was cut, when the producers motioned to Austin & Grayson they needed to be in place. They exchanged “see you laters” mostly with Aleah, but i wasn’t tripping. At least not on them. As they walked off Aleah placed her hand around my waist giving me a small reassuring rub on the back. Which i was thankful for.

I’m glad i didn’t make myself look like an idiot.

My thoughts were interrupted by Aleah’s soft voice thanking me. Slightly confused i asked her what she was thanking me for. She looked up at me wearing that beautiful smile of hers, replying “because i spaced out while that Australian boy was talking to me. And i didn’t hear shit he said. But i was caught off guard by his laughter. So i just laughed along with him hoping he wouldn’t ask me questions or anything.” Letting out a small sigh of relief that, that was all that she was thinking.

Glad it wasn’t because of me.

“So what are you up too”, she asked still holding on to me. As i kept my grip on her shoulder, but not too tight. “Well i just came up here for a quick segment. Then i was gonna figure out what to get into tonight” i replied. “Well what do you usually do for fun”? She asked me. I took a minute to think about it. Cause shit there is rarely a show taped in the city. And i would usually go back to my hotel after a show. “Well i don’t know yet, i’m not used to being so close to home after a show. But i’m trying to get into something since i don’t have to travel for a few days”. I stated simply unsure of what i was going to get into.

“What you getting into tonight lil mama”? I asked staring down at her small frame. “Well i was just going to go home and play some Mario Kart until i fell asleep” she shrugged. I let out a small laugh cause she was dead serious. “Damn what you like a homebody?” I asked outta genuine curiosity. Shawty seemed like a homebody, but you never know she might be a party girl. “Yeah i guess you can say that” she responded. “I went out a lot when i was in college, especially when my ex had a game out of town. But i can’t turn up like i used to, auntie be tired” she stated with all seriousness. I couldn’t help but to laugh, this girl definitely had a goofy side to her.

I got to see more of that.

For the next few minutes we continued talking and joking around. Then the producers came up to me, and let me know i was up next. “So lil mamas, you gonna be here, when i get back?” i asked staring down into her eyes. Something about those brown eyes, had a hold on me. “Of course, I’ll be right here” she stated cheesing.

Before i could say anything my music queued letting me know it was time to go. So i released Aleah from my grip. Slightly surprised she let me hold onto for that long. And made my way down to the ring.

Aleah

I couldn’t find the words to describe the butterflies i had in my stomach after that encounter with Jey. I can not believe how fast i find myself being infatuated with this man, and it’s only my first day on the job. But i am. I couldn’t help but smile watching him go down to the ring. Turning my attention to the monitors in the gorilla. I was in awe at how the WWE crowd embraced Jey. Singing his theme song word for word, doing the signature yeet dance. It just showed me a different side of him, one that piqued my interest in getting to know him even more.

Even though there a part of me that was completely smitten. I couldn’t ignore the sense of worry. Those troublesome thoughts started to rack my brain.

“Am i rushing into something too soon?” or “Am i trying too hard to get over Dominic too soon?”

I sat down having an internal conversation to calm myself down. While i may not be as over Dom, as i thought i was, or would like to be. There isn’t any reason to be so conflicted. That relationship with Dominic is now in the past, because it is something i am not interested in fixing. And while i feel myself catching feelings for Jey, we don’t have to jump into a relationship tomorrow. And that is okay to have feelings for someone new. Whenever the time comes for Jey and I to have a conversation about “us” we will. And we will proceed with whatever “us” is from there.

No need to worry!

I quickly rid my mind of those anxious thoughts to get back to watching Jey. Everything will happen the way it is suppose to happen. And that Jey & I met for a reason. I just want to enjoy my new found friendship with Jey. And not worry about the things i can not control.

Before i knew it, i was snapped out of my thoughts by Jey walking into the gorilla. “You good lil mama” he asked presumably concerned by whatever face i was making while consumed by my own thoughts. “Yeah of course” i replied, trying to reassure him that i was fine. He didn’t push any further which i was thankful for.

We continued our night with casual conversation. Jey didn’t have a scheduled match so he spent the rest of the show keeping me company, while i filmed & uploaded any extra content i could get. The more time i spent with him, the more butterflies i got. I just never met a man, that could check off all of the boxes so suddenly. I have always been told i’m “too picky”, but i feel like i am not. I just don’t believe in settling for what you don’t want. But there was just something special about Jey. Something that made me look at him with such adoration. The butterflies in my stomach were not going to stop anytime soon.

Once the show was over Jey told me to meet him back here after we grabbed our belongings, so he could walk me to my car.

Twenty minutes later we met back up, and just as promised he walked me to my car. “Well seeing as how you’re just going home to play Mario Kart tonight. We finally made it to my car, and stopped to say our goodbyes. “How about we hang out tomorrow?” He asked while rubbing the back of his head, almost as if he was anxious. “Yeah that sounds fine. I’m usually off of work around 3 o’clock, then im all free” I stated. “Okay how about we go out for dinner later on tomorrow evening” he asked, no longer rubbing his head, but still seemingly anxious. “Sounds like a date then” i smiled back at him hoping he felt a little better. “Just text me what time, and i shall see you tomorrow” i responded, trying to contain my excitement. “Alright bet I’ll see you tomorrow lil mama” he said back to me, smiling showing off his bottoms row of grills. I hadn’t even noticed them earlier.

We embraced in a hug. And i couldn’t help but breathe in his cologne. God he smelled so good. Finally parting from our hug, he watched as i got into my car. I waved goodbye to him before pulling off, to head home.

I can’t believe how enamored i was by this man, but i was loving every minute of it.

Feels good to meet someone new.

Series Disclaimer

Catch Up!

Tag list:

@prettypink-princesss @isabella-2025

@sheaabuttaababyy @uceyliyahh @mindairy

@yana3sworld @christinabae

[greatbritishsimchallenge]

Knox and Frankie split up to seek out people who could join their crew. Frankie headed straight for the market in search of Lesley.

Stunned, Lesley immediately accepted the offer and she and Frankie began to laugh and scream with joy.

"Indeed, my eye is captivated and my mind is curious as to the great joy you both share - may I enquire as to what has occurred?" asked Nalani, who had been selling at a stall nearby.

Frankie and Lesley awkwardly cleared their throats and calmed themselves,

"Oh... hey, Nalani," said Frankie. She didn't want to be rude, but nor did she especially want to share her news. "I... was just asking Lesley to join me in a new business venture that Knox and I are starting."

"Most exciting!" cheered Nalani, "Though it will be sad to see you both leave the shell trade."

"Actually," declared Lesley with a pompous joy, "we are staying in the shell business and setting up in the treasure business. Knox and Frankie have a ship and we are going to get to all the deepest parts of the sea and find better sunken treasures than you ever could."

Lesley looked back triumphantly at Frankie, but seeing how Frankie grimaced, she realised she had pushed too far and said quietly, "sorry..."

Nalani was unfazed by Lesley's gloating and instead seemed incredibly interested in Frankie's news, "You have acquired a ship? How wonderful! And you are seeking others to join you?"

Frankie shrugged, "Not really... just Lesley..."

"That is a shame. I had so hoped to request a place amongst your crew. You may recall just recently we spoke of my hope to travel."

"I thought you couldn't? You... made love to the islands, or something?" asked Frankie.

"I am indeed deeply bound," Nalani admitted, momentarily becoming sad, "But perhaps, with such brave friends, I may feel emboldened myself to take such a step."

Frankie and Lesley exchanged uncomfortable glances at being described as Nalani's 'friends'.

"I will happily help you with identifying the areas in which sunken treasures may reside," Nalani added, "Given it would be key to our venture's success."

Frankie eyed Nalani's glittering stall behind her and then exchanged more uncomfortable glances with Lesley. There was no denying that Nalani had far more experience than either of them in navigating the deeper waters.

"Alright," agreed Frankie reluctantly. "If you agree to tell us how you find treasures like the ones you sell and help us to find even better ones, then I will agree to us seeing how it goes with you on the crew."

Nalani clapped with delight while Lesley exhaled heavily.

Start (Iron Age) | Start (Roman Britain) | Start (Anglo Saxon) | Start (Medieval) | Start (Tudor) | Start (Stuart)

Previous | Next

[burningablaze]

Hawks x Reader - Waking Up the Winged Hero

A/N: I took some time to myself because I was feeling stressed about what was going on in Tumblr and in my life. Thankfully I am a little better and ready to get back into writing again. Please keep in mind that requests are still closed because I need to finish the requested fics from before I went on break. Thank you and I hope you like it

Summary: Hawks is determined to sleep in, but you have a secret weapon: gentle tickling

Lee: Hawks

Ler: Reader

Words: 1,070

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Golden sunlight streamed through the blinds, casting a warm glow across the room and illuminating the soft tangle of feathers and blond hair scattered on the bed.

Balancing a steaming mug of coffee in your hand, you stood by the edge of the bed, watching stretched lazily over the mattress, their edges catching the morning light, while his face was half-hidden in the pillow. He looked so tranquil that you almost hated to disturb him.

Seeing him so serene sent a flutter through your heart and set the mug down on the bed. You couldn’t help but reach out and gently ran your hand up and down his bare back. Hawks’ head shifted at the movement, his eyes flickering open just a crack to peer up at you. A low, sleepy grumble escaped him, and his arms tightened around the pillow.

“Good morning, sleepy bird,” you murmured, your voice tender and warm as your fingers traced gentle, soothing circles on his lower back.

Hawks’ eyes closed again and he let out a low groan, shifting as he stretched his body. “Too early…” he muttered, his voice muffled through his pillow. But you could see the corner of his mouth turn up in a faint smile as your hand continued to rub his back.

You chuckled softly and kept rubbing his back. “It’s almost 10:30, Keigo. I know it’s your day off but you need to get up.”

Hawks made another low, disgruntled noise but slowly lifted his head from the pillow to glare at you with one eye. His hair was a mess, sticking out in every direction, and his eyes were still heavy with sleep.

“It is my day off, I can sleep in as late as I want,” he mumbled, his voice still a bit gravelly from sleep.

“I know and I’m sorry. But the more you sleep in, the more you’ll be tired later in the day and you won't be able to sleep at a decent time at night,” you said as you started wiggling your fingers down his spine.

Hawks let out a soft gasp as your fingers traced up and down his spine. “Hey… that’s not fair…” he protested weakly, his wings twitching as your fingers found a particularly sensitive spot.

A smirk slowly formed on your lips. “Are you… sensitive right here?” you wiggled your fingers around the same spot on his back.

Hawks let out a soft involuntary laugh as you continued to tease him, his wings rustling anxiously. “No, no, stop it, it tickles!” he protested, a hint of defensiveness in his voice as he tried to squirm away from your touch.

“Oh, it does tickle? Does it tickle right here?” you used both hands to lightly tickle his sides, using your nails to spider across his skin.

He bursted out giggling, his wings flailing and his back twisting in an attempt to fend off your tickling fingers. “Hey, hey, hey, stohohohop it, you ahahahahaha you know I’m tihihihicklish, you- AH!” he tried in vain to speak between gasps and giggles while burying his face in the pillow.

“I know you’re ticklish and you’re so cute when you’re laughing and squirming.” you skittered up to his ribs and below his wings.

He squirmed and twisted, his laughter growing even harder as your fingers danced up and down his sensitive ribs. His wings spread out on either side of him, jerked and twitched as he wriggled to escape your relentless tickling.

“Ahahahahahahahaha, plehehehease, p-please! Nahahahaha no, stohohohop it! Ahahahahaha! Mehehercy!”

You smirked as you watched him wiggle and tried to stop your hands. “Hmm, I don’t know. You’re too cute for me to stop.”

“Nohohohohot f-fahahahair! Ahahahahahahahahahahaha!” he protested in between fits of giggles. His eyes were squeezed shut in mirth as he tried to twist away from your teasing fingers, his wings quivering with each touch and flapping in a futile attempt to fend off your hands. He tried to reach his hands around his back to try to grab your wrists.

“Aww, are you trying to stop me? You know that’s not going to work, darling.” with one last spot in mind to tickle, you fluttered your fingers to his armpits and gently dug in the hollows of his pits.

Hawks let out a screech of laughter, his eyes widening in surprise and horror as he realized what spots you were targeting. He tried to curl his arms in to protect himself, but he was too tangled up in the sheets and your unrelenting tickle assault. His wings shook and fluttered, creating a flurry of feathers.

“Nohohohohoho! Not the armpihihihihits! Stohohohohohop!” he begged between gasps and helpless giggles.

“What’s that? You want me to stop?” you teased, a mischievous grin spread across your face. “Are your armpits super ticklish?” you leaned in closer, your breath brushing his ear.

His face flushed an even darker shade of red as your breath tickled into his ear and your fingers dug deeply into his sensitive armpits. He squirmed and tried to twist away, but he was completely trapped beneath you and your incessant tickling.

“Yes, yehehehehehes! They’re ticklihihihihish, plehehehehease! Ahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!” he managed to gasp out between bouts of laughter.

“I don’t hear you saying you’re getting up though. Should I stop?”

Hawks let out another helpless peal of laughter as your fingers continued their relentless assault on his armpits, and he shook his head desperately.

“Nohohohohoho, plehehehehease! I’ll get-get up, ahahahahaha, just stop tickling mehehehehe!” he gasped out, his wings twitching weakly.

As you finally pulled away, you sat back and watched Hawks catch his breath, his laughter subsiding into occasional giggles and gasps.

“You’re evil, you know that?” he groaned as he rolled on his side to face you and his eyes narrowing playfully. “That’s a low blow, going for the armpits like that.”

You smirked, amused by his reaction, and shrugged innocently. “What can I say? I know your weak spots, babe. It’s not my fault they’re so much fun to exploit.”

Hawks grumbled but couldn’t keep a smile from spreading across his face. He sat up, rubbing his ribcage and stretching his wings behind him.

“You’re lucky I love you,” he muttered, feigning annoyance while secretly enjoying the attention you gave him.

You chuckled and leaned in to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. “I know, I’m the luckiest. Now get up and get dressed, you big baby.”

[eclec-tech]

Pairing: Hardcase x OC Kisan Indral, Iridonian history student Ship Name: Hardkis

Kisan (key-SAHN) is a Zabrak student Hardcase met while on Iridonia and instantly connected with. If you’re curious, there is a lot more about these two in this chapter which sums up their connection AND explains Hardcase’s tattoos!

For "quality time," here's a little scene extension from Chapter 6 of the current part of my long fic, “Family Found.” (This is an AU where Hardcase somehow survived Umbara and woke up to find his mind in the body of a blue-eyed cadet.)

The original fic scene and the Clone x OC Week extention are below the cut. Enjoy the fluff! 🧡

@clonexocweek Hardcase divider by @lornaka and @freesia-writes

Beep, beep, beep. Beep, beep, beep. Beep, beep, beep.  Wrecker mumbled against his spoon. “What’s that?” Miran and Luvari looked at each other and then at a smiling Hardcase. “That,” Luvari informed him with a pleased smile, “is probably Commander Cody informing us that Iridonia’s solar storm communications blackout is ending.” Hardcase rose slowly and dramatically from his seat. “If anyone needs me, I’ll be on the Cerulean.” He then lept over his chair and ran to the hangar. Ahsoka chuckled as she watched him disappear. “What’s that about?” Miran shook her head fondly. “Hardcase knows a girl on Iridonia. He’ll probably be out there talking to her for the rest of the night.” "Family Found" (Chapter 6)

Hardcase took the steps up the ramp to his ship three at a time, skidding into the panel opposite the hatch with a whispered curse before regaining his balance and entering the cockpit. He had the holoprojector switched on and the comm frequency entered before he even made it to the pilot’s seat.

“Come on, come on, come on,” he urged the blank space before him. “Where are you?” After a couple of minutes of silence, he dropped his head onto the controls and groaned in disappointment.

“Are you looking for me?”

Hardcase’s head shot up. “Kisan?”

“Hi, Hardcase!”

He smiled at the young woman in the hologram. The blueness of the image made her look more like a Pantoran with horns than a warmly hued Zabrak. It made his smile stretch even wider. “I have so much to tell you.”

Hardcase spent the better part of the next hour catching her up on what had happened since he left her planet—everything from settling on Alderaan and reuniting with his Force-gifted squad to the fact that he and all his clone brothers were no longer victims of accelerated aging. It was a lot.

Kisan’s head was swimming by the time he finished catching her up.

“Oh, and Miran bought some Endorian ridge hens. The friendliest one is a pretty, rusty color. I call her ‘Mini Kis.’

“You named a hen for me?” It was a sharp turn from everything else he had shared. She giggled and covered her mouth with her hand. “That’s so funny!”

Hardcase felt a little dejected that his roundabout compliment hadn’t been taken the way he intended. He was hoping she would say the gesture was sweet, not funny. “Why is it funny?”

“Because I named one of the new bukks in our herd ‘Bukkcase.’”

Hardcase’s eyes went wide. “You’re kidding me.”

“No, I’m not!” she returned with a laugh. “He reminds me of you. He’s mischievous. He likes to come up behind me and lick my ears. He even seems to use the other bukks as a distraction. He walks toward me with the herd and then breaks away when my back is turned so he can lick me! He’s sneaky.”

Hardcase chuckled and leaned closer to the hologram. “Hmm. Maybe that bukk is on to something. You had better not turn your back on me the next time I see you. I might be tempted to find out for myself what’s so tasty about your ears.”

“Hardcase!”

Hardcase laughed hard at her scandalized tone. He could spend the rest of his life joking around with the lovely girl flickering in front of him, and if his theory about the tattoo leading to his heart being about her was correct, that’s what the Force wanted too.

He stared at her image in silence for a moment, lingering on the lips he had touched for only a few life-changing seconds before he had to leave Iridonia. Her hair had been up then, braided and woven through her smooth horns until they all but disappeared. Her hair was down now, parted by her horns and gathered into a single thick plait over her shoulder. He had never seen it this way. Then it hit him that he had never seen her dressed this way either.

“What are you wearing?”

Kisan held her arms out. “A night shirt.”

Hardcase made a quick and uncomfortable inventory of the situation: hair down, night shirt, took too long to answer. It all led to an incontrovertible conclusion.

He was an idiot.

“Oh, skrag. When I heard the comm blackout was over, I didn’t even…what time is it there?”

“It’s about four hours until dawn.”

“Kis, I’m so sorry! I should have checked!” He rubbed at the back of his neck guiltily. “I guess I got too excited when I heard that comms were back up. We’ll talk more another time.”

“Hardcase, it’s okay. I would rather talk to you than sleep!”

“You’re not tired?”

“I was. I might not sleep for a week after everything you’ve told me tonight.”

Hardcase grinned. “Well, if you really do find yourself having any sleepless nights this week, I know someone who wouldn’t mind keeping you company.”

“Oh? Luvari isn’t too busy?”

The grin grew. “I meant me, and you know it.”

Kisan smiled back impishly, and the sight sucked the air from his lungs. He didn’t know why the Force decided to keep him around after the explosion above Umbara or understand the mysterious dreams he had turned into his tattoos, but he knew one thing with ever-increasing certainty—Kisan was the mark over his heart.

[beef-brisket]

Adam leaned into the kiss for only a moment before he quickly moved away, and jumped off the bed.

Adam: Y-You know, out of all the shit you've said to me- that's the worst- most c-cruel thing-! The fuck, Lucifer?! I'm not hot- so the fuck?! The ACTUAL fuck?!

Lucifer was a bit taken aback, but he's not surprised by Adam's outburst. He's pretty much a giant, glorified child at this point.

But, he did find it a bit strange that what Adam was made about was pretty much being called "hot".

Lucifer thought that was his whole thing, calling himself hot, and fuckable. So, what was happening?

Lucifer: I... okay, hold up. Let's take a step back. What's happening?

Adam: W-What do you mean, "what's happening"?! I- you- you said I let myself go-! And I have-! So, how the fuck am I hot one minute- and f-fucking disgusting the next?!

Lucifer: I... A-Adam-.

Adam: So what, have you teamed up with Bambi or something?! Is this the worst fucking joke, Lucifer-! I know I. Fucking gross, alright?! I've delt with the angels- amd Sera- fucking Sera, say I'm a fuckimg embarrassment- just- I-I can't fucking deal with this.

Lucifer: Adam! Wait!

Lucifer reached out and grabbed Adam's arm, stopping him from leaving. He could feel how much the first man was shaking under his grip, and by the way he turned his head away, he was crying.

Lucifer: Adam, I swear, I'm not lying. I shouldn't have said those things to you, I was just... look, I was wrong, so wrong. You look amazing, really. You were made to be perfect, Adam-.

Adam: Lilith's perfect. I'm not... I'm a fucking dud. Even after everything, they still preferred her... n-no matter what I did, it wasn't enough... I-I'm not perfect, I never was... c-can you let go, please...?

Lucifer stared at Adam's back in shock, he's never heard him sound so quiet and weak. He didn't like it. He'd rather Adam yell and scream, instead of this.

Lucifer: No... I won't let go.

Standing, Lucifer went to move in front of Adam, but he turned away, covering his face.

Lucifer: I swear, I'm not lying, Adam. And you didn't deserve the shot you went through... I thought Heaven would have helped you or something. But that was just wishful thinking... they can't help but make things worse... and that goes for me, too. I hurt you, and I refuse to do it again.

Taking Adam's hands, Lucifer was finally able to see a part of Adam's face. He hasn't seen Adam cry since Eden. And it hurt to see as much now as it did then.

Lucifer: I... can't even imagine what Heaven has said or done to you. But you didn't deserve it, Adam.

Adam scoffed: ...You sound like her.

Lucifer: Who?

Adam: ...Charlie... how did you two assholes have such a sweet kid...?

Lucifer laughed: No idea... can I tell you a secret?

Adam: ...I guess. If you want.

Lucifer looked down at Adam's hands, smiling at the chipped black nail polish. He remembered laughing at the different ways Adam tried to disguise his new demonic features. His claws included.

Lucifer: She reminded me of you... she still does.

Adam: ...I'm not like her. She's... hopeful. I'm not that...

Lucifer: ...When she smiled, I saw you. She was so curious and wanted to see and touch everything. She sees the best in everything... it takes a lot to bring her down... and... I don't want her to get hurt and... end up-.

Adam: Like me?

Lucifer: What-?! I... y-yeah- but not for the reasons you think! I meant... I don't want her hurt. For people to use her- to take her for all she's worth, then to throw her away like she's nothing... I don't want her to end up closed off and ridiculed. And, when I see you... I hate that I was the cause of your pain. I couldn't get out of my own shit to see how I was affecting you or other people. When I see you, I feel shame. You're the only thing I regret about my actions. it is how I hurt you. You're... you're so important to me, and I just...

Adam: killed me...?

Lucifer: ...K-Killed you... and... I regret that so much.

Adam nods, looking away: It wasn't all your fault... I wasn't... you know, important enough, ans that was my fault- I should have tried harder-.

Lucifer: Hey, no. That's- that's not it, Adam, I swear.

Adam tilted his head: I wasn't... smart enough?

Lucifer: No-.

Adam: ...I'm not blonde?

Lucifer: What-?! No! Of course not!

Adam: Okay... can't give birth?

Lucifer: Uh-.

Adam: Ambitious? I didn't know... what else.

Lucifer: ...Is this what you've thought...? For all these years...?

Adam shrugged: I couldn't figure out what I did. Or what I didn't do... I just figured out it was me. I did everything wrong, nothing right, so why try? And... then you kiss me. Why now? I'm broken- why didn't you do this when I was perfect, when I was something important? Why now...? I was nothing when I was an angel, but I'm something when I'm a monster?

Lucifer: Adam. Stop. That's not it.

Adam laughed: Then what is it? How can you feel something for me when I'm at my lowest...? You don't even know me.

Lucifer: Of course, I know you, I've known you since the beginning.

Adam: I'm not the same person... I died. More than twice. I'm not the same. I'm worse. You can't like me, why would you like me? No one likes me- you of all people can't like me- you're lying to me.

Lucifer: Adam- enough. Breathe, okay. I... I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I... it... it wasn't your fault. In the garden.

Adam: Yes, it was. You told me to leave, remember? Said I was sick, wrong, a failed prototype-.

Lucifer was definitely panicking now. He forgot he said any of those things. Everything flooded back to him, hitting him like a brick to the face.

Lucifer: Please, Adam- I... shit, I don't know what to say... I can blame you for the exterminations all I want, but at the end of the day, it's my fault. All of it. I've made so many mistakes, Adam... and hurting you was the biggest. None of it was your fault, what I did... what Lilith did was wrong. We were so stuck I'm our ideals and our plan that we didn't see the bigger picture. I... I didn't want to hurt you... I really thought we were helping. I wanted to help both of you... but Lilith was focused on herself. Then Eve.

Lucifer ran his thumb over Adam's hands. He smiled at how long his fingers were, even though they looked so different, they were so perfect.

Lucifer: So much has changed since Eden, and... while not all for the best, there have been some good things- I think. I've had a lot of time to thing- a LOT. And I want to make it up to you. I really, really do. And I meant what I said before. You're fucking hot, Adam. Gorgeous. I know you think you're a monster- but I think you're stunning. And fuck Bambi, I don't talk to him, Adam, I'm nit working with him in some scheme, and I hate you think that. That you think everyone is against you, thinking those about you. I want to convince you that you deserve to be loved, that you're still perfect. Please, Adam. I know I don't deserve your forgiveness, but please let me try and earn your trust again.

Adam stared down at Lucifer. Everything is screaming at him to run and run far.

What if he leaves? Of course, he'll leave. It'll only be a matter of time. But, staring into Lucifer's eyes, he can't help but see his angel, even though he's so different.

Does he want his angel back or proof that he could be loved?

Adam glanced at the two photos on the bed. Did Lucifer mean what he said? That he looked hot?

Adam: ...O-Okay...

Lucifer smiled widely and kissed Adam's hands: Thank you, Adam. Thank you so much, Adam!

Adam smiled awkwardly as Lucifer beamed up at him. He was like a weird, little ball of sunshine. Or hellfire.

Lucifer: So~... can I keep your photo~?

Adam: W-What?!

Lucifer: You can keep mine!

Adam: ...F-Fine, just... don't show it to anyone, okay?

Lucifer: Oh, darling, I would destroy anyone who dares to try and lay eyes on it~.

Pin Me (To Your Bed)

@beef-brisket

Happy Valentine's Day Everyone! 💖

-

Charlie was so excited to help Angel set up his idea, it was a great way to help people with their body image and self confidence.

Adam was leaning against the wall as he watched the photo shoot area be set up. Angel wanted everyone to do a pin up photo shoot for Valentine's Day to help their self-esteem and feel sexy.

Angel: Hey mister pouty pants, come help me with the outfits.

Adam sighed and made his way over, the clothing rack held many linguire outfits, short shorts, and leather pieces of clothing.

Adam: Angel, I've seen tissues bigger than this thing.

He held up what looked like a G string and Angel laughed.

Angel: Oh relax! And it's all in fun big guy, besides if you wore something sexy who's to say short, pale, and hunky won't be all over you.~

Adam flushed, he knew it was a bad idea to tell Angel about his feelings for Lucifer. But as long as the short King doesn't hear he guessed it was fine.

Adam: Shut up.

Speaking of Lucifer, he was just done hanging the lights when he floated down smiling at the pair.

Lucifer: Those are umm.... Interesting outfits Angel.

Angel: Aren't they?~ You're dressing up too aren't ya short King?

Lucifer coughed into his fist: W-Well, maybe. I have an image to maintain I can't wear anything too scandalous. You understand.

Adam tried and failed to not picture Lucifer only wearing that G string that would barely cover his dick.

Angel smirked: Oh yeah of course.~ I'll make it all very tasteful for everyone, all within a comfort zone they like. But how about you show a little skin? Like right here.~

He pointed to his stomach area and Lucifer felt warm, he looked at Adam who was looking at him maybe zoned out. Would he like that?

Lucifer: Y-yeah I guess that's fine.

[faneliansficaloh]

A Lifetime of Happiness

(Chapter 1) (Chapter 2) (Chapter 3) (Chapter 4)

This is Chapter 5

----------

11 November, 1817

Dear Penelope,

It is so odd to have such warm rain in the middle of November, I find myself missing the cold, even though the warmth is much easier on my fingers as I write all day every day now, as I have for the last two years. The letter writing has increased for obvious reasons.

I know my first letters might just be arriving to their destinations about now, but I haven’t been able to wait for the responses to some of them. I am compelled to write as I think, I write letters or in my journal, when I am not working on documents and translations for work. I do not mind it, but I have developed a little dent on my index finger and what seems to be permanent stains on my finger tips. Mother would be appalled, for along with the way the sun has darkened my complexion, I must not convey a very aristocratic figure at all, if I ever did.

I swear even the sound of the rain is different here. Even when it’s pouring in full force, it still sounds softer than English rain. It is very peaceful. It makes me think I could fall asleep outside without minding it at all, as if the drops would fall gently like soft caresses, like the fingers of a beloved person running through the features of a darling face.

Has it started snowing yet? I do not believe it ever does here.

Yours, Colin.

1814 – New Acquaintances

The Featherington dinning room was perhaps the less affected by Lady Featherington’s tastes. It was a rather sober room in comparison to the rest of the house with its citrus coloured walls. It was almost tasteful, although a little on the lived-in side, which might betray that it had indeed not gone through a renovation at the hand of the current Lady of the house.

“Mrs. Bridgerton, will you and Mr. Bridgerton be travelling to Aubrey Hall earlier with the rest of the family or are you planning to arrive with the rest of the guests for the main event?”

“We will be travelling earlier, with the rest of the Bridgertons, Lord Featherington”

“Ah, what a wonderful opportunity to get better acquainted with your new family”, Lady Featherington interjected.

It was no secret that the new Mrs. Bridgerton did not spend much time at Bridgerton House, even though it had nearly been a year since the marriage took place. Marina had simply not shown much interest, she had become very reserved and kept mostly to her home and the occasional dinner at the Featherington house, making extremely short appearances at social events. Portia assumed at first that she was simply very dedicated to her babies, but there was something in her air that did not sit well with her. She did feel sympathy for her, of course, but there was nothing to be done if the marriage had not turned out a happy one. Besides, there was no use having such a connection if it was this feeble, Portia thought, so she was glad there was an opportunity to strengthen it and maybe even lift the girl’s spirits.

She did not think that their situations might be exactly the same, for Mr. Bridgerton did not seem to be a cruel man as her late husband had been, no. Mr. Bridgerton had indeed endured the situation with much more kindness than Portia had ever expected from a man, but in her own experience, when there was no love to be found in one’s marriage, one could always pour themselves into their children and find diversion in society. The one thing they could do was to secure the best opportunities for their children, make sure they had all the possible advantages, so that their futures would be brighter than their own and here Marina, unlike her, had the advantage of not having to actively work against her husband to achieve it.

“Indeed, it is a good opportunity. But I must confess I find it a bit daunting, and was actually intending to ask if you would do me the favour to allow Penelope to travel with us, if she’d agree, of course. It would mean a lot to me to have her support and I know how dear she is to Eloise and the rest of the family so her presence would be invaluable to me”

“I wouldn’t want to impose on the Viscount and Lady Bridgerton, have you talked to them about this?” Penelope couldn’t think of a single other reason why she wouldn’t accept without making it obvious she just didn’t cherish the prospect of enduring the trip in such close quarters with the couple. Besides she still felt guilty for not having told Lady Bridgerton about Marina much earlier. Maybe Anthony would oppose her coming, since Penelope knew the true purpose of the advance trip and she imagined he might not be pleased by the increase in attendance once the Sharmas’ party joined them.

“Colin will ask Violet, won’t you?” Marina turned to her husband, to ask.

“I will, but it almost seems unnecessary. My mother adores Penelope, she will be happy to have her, she is always welcome”

Marina might not have known the family as long or as well as Penelope had, but she had this one thing right. If Colin asked Anthony directly, there was a chance for denial, but if he went through his mother, it was as well as a done thing. Colin had a way of getting whatever he wanted from Violet and well, she had just been deluding herself earlier if she thought Anthony would deny his mother a fairly simple request like this.

“Seems I should start packing, then” She said with a tight smile.

“Wonderful!” Marina’s smile seemed genuine, so Penelope felt a little hopeful it would be a good thing after all. “I’m looking forward to it. I miss the country so much.”

“It is settled then” Lady Featherington said cheerfully.

“I look forward to joining you later and making your family’s acquaintance, Mr. Bridgerton” Lord Featherington raised his glass and Colin followed suit.

***

The advance party had barely set foot at Aubrey Hall when Benedict was notified that he had a visitor and so he went into the study without any idea why this man would be calling on him.

“Good afternoon” Benedict greeted the man that had come to Aubrey Hall asking to see him. He did not know this man “Sir Phillip Crane, is it? I do not believe we have met. Benedict Bridgerton”

“Oh” Sir Phillip then produced a wrinkled piece of paper, a letter, from the pocket on his waistcoat. He opened it and looked for a detail on it. “Forgive me, Mr. Bridgerton, I was hoping I could talk to Mr. ColinBridgerton. I’ve been corresponding with him on a rather important… business, so as I learned your family was coming to the country, I thought to seize the opportunity to have the conversation in person”

“Ah, I see. Please have a seat” He motioned to the footman who immediately went out to look for the aforementioned Mr. Colin Bridgerton “Is your home nearby?”

“Yes, Romney Hall. I much rather the country. I am seldom to be found in London, avoid going there as much as possible, so you see this was a perfect opportunity for me as it is but a short ride away” He was fidgeting with the letter in his hand, which he had promptly re-folded many times into a tiny square.

“You rode here?” Benedict looked at the window. It was a grey, cloudy afternoon with every indication that a storm might fall at any moment.

“I did” And as Sir Phillip followed Benedict’s line of sight he became embarrassed “I believe I might have overestimated the speed of my steed and underestimated that of the clouds”

Colin entered the study a moment after

“Good afternoon. Did you call for me?” Benedict nodded and indicated towards Phillip.

“You have a guest”

“Sir Phillip Crane, at your service”

“Well, I will leave you to discuss your business in private” Benedict left the room.

“Please” Colin motioned to the other man to get back to his seat and took one opposite him.

“I’ve come in the hopes I can persuade you to reconsider the matter we’ve been corresponding about. I do understand and appreciate you taking care of the children as if they were your own--” He paused as he saw Colin get affronted by his choice of words “All I mean is, they deserve – My brother wanted them to have the Crane inheritance that is rightfully theirs. I cannot in good conscience ignore this.”

“That is very honourable of you but --”

“Please. I must do this. You have many siblings, brothers and sisters? George was my only brother, and he always supported me when others wouldn’t. I couldn’t-- I won’t – I just rather their legal guardians are aware that arrangements have been made for their future. I unfortunately cannot pass on the title to the boy, as you understand.”

“Do you not intend to marry, have your own children?” Colin felt he needed to protest, as it seemed that once more decisions were being made on his behalf and he was just being informed. At what point in life had he lost agency over his destiny so completely?

“Adjustments will be made, proportionally as necessary, if such a thing were to happen, but it won’t be any time soon, I can assure you. There is just one thing. I just-- I would like to meet them” He didn’t know this man, but so far he had come through in his letters as a proud individual, so he was prepared to fight a refusal.

Colin could see the hope on this man’s eyes. And he thought how terrible it would be if they were to lose Daphne and then be denied to see Augie again and the thought made him shudder. It was also rare to have a gentleman so concerned with the well-being of children that were on all accounts, not his burden. He would have to deal with Marina later, as he was sure she would not be happy at this.

“Very well” he nodded and rang the bell, instructing the footman as he entered the room “Please ask miss Carrigan to bring the children to the drawing room, and have tea and some sandwiches sent there as well for Sir Phillip and myself.” He stood up and motioned for Phillip to follow him. “No time like the present”

The drawing room was full of people, as it turned out.

Hyacinth and Gregory were playing chess by the window and Eloise was reading a book in a sofa, next to Benedict, who was talking with Anthony. Lady Bridgerton and Francesca were working on some embroidery in the opposite sofa. Marina he knew was in their room with Penelope.

“I suddenly realize why it isn’t a good idea to show up unannounced” Phillip said a little embarrassed.

Lady Bridgerton stood up as she noticed they had an unexpected visitor.

“I take it business has gone well?” Benedict asked from his place standing near the chimney, with a smile as his eyes surveyed both men.

“It has. Mother, Anthony, allow me to introduce Sir Phillip Crane, our neighbour from Romney Hall”

“Pleased to make your acquaintance. Please take a seat, would you like some tea?” Violet gestured to the seat opposite Eloise, who made for a hasty retreat fearing one of her mother’s schemes and moved to inspect the game of chess closely, but her brother and sister had already stood up to acknowledge the unexpected guest.

A wave of curtsies and bows rose and fell through the room, as pleasantries were exchanged before he was finally seated, in the place where Eloise had been before fleeing. He shifted rather awkwardly, removing the book Eloise had left behind between the seat cushions. He seemed intrigued by the title and opened it, idly perusing the pages, waiting for the babies to be brought in, absent-mindedly ignoring the company. Eloise cringed at discovering her carelessness, but then she noticed he had apparently found something interesting as he had stopped turning pages and was actually reading. She found herself curious at what part could it have been.

“Sir Phillip, it seems you have arrived just in time to avoid the coming storm” Said Violet after too long a moment, to try and ease the awkward silence that had befallen the room. It had already started raining, but it was still a gentle rain. The more ominous clouds were still at a distance, but the wind had started picking up.

“It appears so” He said as he stopped his reading to look through the window behind him, while carefully marking his place with his index finger. “Hopefully it will pass soon before I am to make my way back home”

“I certainly hope so, too. If it doesn’t, We will gladly arrange for you to spend the night, we cannot have you on horseback in such weather.” Offered Anthony.

“Heavens! Not on horseback, no” Violet said with a gentle laugh.

“I don’t think the storm will pass soon” Eloise muttered.

The doors opened, Penelope was carrying Amanda while Miss Carrigan, the nurse, carried Oliver. Violet seemed to then fully understand what Sir Phillip was there for.

“If you’ll excuse me, I have so much work to do in preparation for our ball! Sir Phillip, I hope you will be able to join us this year, I believe you have gotten your invitation already?”

“Ah, yes, Th-- thank you” He said, rather surprised and evidently not knowing the appropriate way to respond. Violet had indeed made sure an invitation was sent to Sir Phillip, as even though the Cranes had rarely-if ever- attended any such events, it was the neighbourly thing to do, especially because he was now on all the lists of eligible bachelors in the county.

“If you’ll excuse me I have to… go” Benedict said, unable to come up with an acceptable excuse and completely giving up on pretending to have one.

“Wait for me” said Eloise who made a stop in front of Phillip “May I please have my book, sir”

“Oh, Of course!” He said with a little embarrassment, as evidently he had forgotten that the book was in his hand, with his finger still keeping his place.

“Thank you” She said, curtsied and quickly caught up with Benedict at the door, exchanging a puzzled glance with Penelope as she passed by her. “I’ll tell you later” Penelope muttered, as she shifted Amanda on her arms.

Benedict then summoned the youngest siblings “Gregory, Hyacinth, come with us, we’ll play cards in the game room” Both children exchanged glances and reluctantly followed their older brother and sister. “Anthony, you’re welcome to join us, if you are not too busy”

“As a matter of fact I have business to attend to, if you’ll excuse me, Sir Phillip.” Anthony left the room at a brisk pace.

Colin finally said, after patiently waiting for everyone to make their graceful exits “Alright. Miss Carrigan, could you please give us a moment”

The nurse exchanged a quick glance with Penelope as she knew it would now be up to her to handle both children.

“It’s alright” Penelope assured her and miss Carrigan was out the door after having set up a blanket and toys and gently placing Oliver on it.

“This little lady” Said Collin as he took the girl from Penelope’s arms “is Amanda”. His face was immediately softened, it made Phillip wonder if it truly was the same man he had been talking to earlier in that study downstairs.

“And the lady?” Judging by her dress and how she had not been dismissed with the other, the woman that had been holding the girl was clearly not a servant.

“Oh, Pen, I’m terribly sorry! Sir Phillip, this is Miss Penelope Featherington”

“Pleased to make your acquaintance” She said and upon seeing Sir Phillip sporting a mildly confused semblance she added “Mrs. Bridgerton sends her apologies, she won’t be able to join us”

“Miss Penelope is Marina’s cousin” Colin then went down on one knee to gently place Amanda down beside his brother “And this little fellow is Oliver”

“May I?” Phillip asked hesitantly.

“Of course” Colin said the words but he was rather unsure that this man would know how to properly handle a baby.

“Hi Oliver!” Phillip sat on the floor and greeted the child, who made babbling noises at the mention of his name “I’m your uncle Phillip!” His voice was very soft and there was some pain in it as his eyes filled with tears as he recognized his brother in his children’s faces. “Hi Amanda!” he seemed enthralled for a long moment, and then he looked up at Colin who was sitting on the chair opposite. “Thank you!”

Penelope smiled at Colin approvingly and it made him feel he had finally done the right thing. None of them had really noticed how dark the day had turned, until they were snapped to attention by rumbling thunder and the crack of a tree branch fighting the wind.

“You’ll have to join us for dinner” said Colin.

“If it is not too much of an imposition”

“Not at all. Pen, would you mind?”

“I will take care of it” Penelope then left the drawing room. She intercepted a maid that was walking down the corridor and asked her to let Lady Bridgerton know that Sir Phillip would be staying for dinner and then returned to Marina’s room.

“Marina?” She asked, before entering the room

“Has that man left yet?” was her answer.

“No. He will be staying for dinner, actually, because of the storm”

“I cannot believe this.” Marina was clearly exasperated.

“Marina, what is the matter? He seems perfectly agreeable and for all we know he just wants to know his brother’s children. Is that so terrible?”

“I do not trust him, Penelope. I never met him because he was always off somewhere while George had to take the blunt of his father’s temper. His father was an awful man, If Sir Phillip is anything at all like their father, I want him nothing to do with my children”

“But isn’t that more reason to try to asses him in person?”

“Absolutely not. I do not have any reason to bend to the will of that man at all. If it were for me he would have been sent away immediately, but Colin is just so easily persuaded” Penelope highly resented her tone.

“I do not think either of them is being unreasonable, Marina. Will you be joining us for dinner or not?”

“Will you stay here with me, please?” She pleaded.

“I’m sorry, but I will not. You may stay here if you wish, I will ask for a tray to be sent up, but I fully intend to join our hosts at the dinner table”

“I see” Marina was clearly displeased with her answer, but Penelope was not about to, as she had put it ‘bend’ to her will, as she thought she was being unreasonable. If she had an objection to Sir Phillip’s character, she would make sure to make the most of the time they had together to make an assessment.

“If you’ll excuse me” She responded curtly, and left Marina alone.

Colin approached her outside the room, after the children had been returned to the nursery and Sir Phillip escorted to the game room by a footman. “Did you tell Marina about dinner?”

“I did. She refuses to accompany us, I will ask for a tray to be brought up to her” She started walking and he followed her, going downstairs.

“Thank you, Pen. I really do not understand what her objection is.” He seemed to be worn off by the topic “I’ve given this a great deal of thought and I do not see an outcome that is not beneficial for the children, as much as it hurts my own pride.”

“I believe he has a right to know his brother’s children, it seems fair and not at all unreasonable. But Marina seems to have some concerns about his character, based on undesirable traits from his father. She admits to never have met Sir Phillip himself, though, so I do not see any reason why he shouldn’t be allowed to meet the children while supervised.”

“And I think the fact that he is setting aside some assurances for their future should be something to be grateful for, but I have not been able to convince her otherwise. They do have the full support of the Bridgerton name, of course, but I am merely a third son, after all.”

“Assurances? I thought he was here just to meet the children.” She seemed surprised and he reflected that he had not told her about the letter and the details of Sir Phillip’s request. They had in fact not talked in a while, but it had seemed natural to him to assume that she knew everything.

They stopped at the end of the stairs “No, he came here to inform us that he will be setting aside part of the Crane inheritance for them. He seems genuinely regretful that he cannot pass on the title to Oliver. Marina had tried to refuse this offer but he said he would do it, regardless of our opinions, out of respect for the memory of his brother and his last wishes”

It seemed like a very generous offer, to her. “Well, let us take the opportunity to make more of his character, then.”

They both nodded in agreement and went to join the visitor and his siblings.

***

“You must excuse me, Miss Featherington for any ill-manners that might come across, I am not accustomed to high society dinners and events” Sir Phillip privately warned Penelope as they were seated, which she found extremely unusual but his delivery made it endearing.

She responded in the same private manner “Do not worry, sir Phillip, the Bridgertons are not very concerned with etiquette on these small family gatherings. As you can see we are to be joined by the children, which is altogether unusual”

“I see you are very close with the Bridgertons, Miss Featherington” He said, more openly as to invite conversation.

She shyly responded “We are close neighbours in Mayfair, so our families have known each other for many years and I am very good friends with Miss Eloise.”

“We do consider you family, Penelope” Lady Bridgerton said with a warm smile, which Penelope returned with great relief. Violet had already talked to her about the discussion they had when she told them about the elopement. That night Violet had been understandably harsh with her but had later apologized. This was the first time, however, that Penelope felt she had been truly forgiven for her part of the mess.

“Indeed, but I think of you more like an annoying little sister” Eloise responded “But with the advantage of always having the best book recommendations for me, unlike some other siblings of mine.” She directed a mocking face towards Hyacinth and Francesca, both of whom made unladylike faces at her in response.

“I take that as a very high compliment, Eloise” Penelope smiled, appreciatively.

“It was your book, the Conversations d'Emilie.” Sir Phillip said looking at Eloise, but then quickly turned to Penelope “Was that your recommendation, Miss Featherington?” For some reason he seemed to feel more at ease talking to her.

“No, not at all. I’m afraid Eloise has more elevated intellectual pursuits than I do”

“Oh, well, it reminded me of something else I had read, but I am sure the author was English, not French”

“So, not Rousseau, then?” Said Eloise, with the air of one setting up a trap.

“Though I didn’t get to read much, your book seemed to be a sort of response to his Emile, but I might have formed an entirely wrong idea, forgive me.”

“Have you read Wollstonecraft?” She said with a suspecting glance.

“Oh, yes, I believe that is what I’m thinking of. Mrs. Gardiner gifted me that when I visited her school at Elsham Hall. They have a most extensive library, for the benefit of the young ladies attending. Miss Featherington, I could send you my copy if you’re interested in reading it”

“Would you give up such a gift?” Penelope said, surprised. She could not think of parting with a book if it was not for the benefit of a very good friend and she had known this man for no more than a couple of hours, at most.

Colin felt Penelope made a very good point. What was this man attempting, talking about giving a gift to a lady he had just met?

“I believe such works are not meant to be collected, but shared with as many people as would be interested in them. I would not part with my Flora Graeca, though.” Sir Phillip smiled, thinking of one of his most beloved volumes.

“Are you a naturalist?” Eloise said, assuming this was the case from his mention of flora greca.

“Indeed I am! Cambridge trained botanist. I carry my own experiments at Romney Hall” He seemed to be rather proud of both these facts and smiled as he looked around the table.

“How interesting! --” And before Penelope could form a question to continue the conversation in that vein, Colin interrupted with his own.

“Have you been to Greece then, Sir Phillip?” Colin had always wanted to visit and had read extensively about the Country, but had not had a chance to venture there yet.

“I have not, unfortunately. I’ve always wanted to visit the olive orchards in Lesvos, they must be a wonder to behold” His face was even more animated now.

“I believe they are very ancient, are they not?” Colin was excited to be able to share some of the facts he had learned in his self-conducted studies, as the opportunities seldom presented themselves within his family, who thought him a bore whenever he tried to share a new fact he had found interesting.

“They have been there since the third century B.C.” He said this as if he were proud of the trees for such an accomplishment.

“Can they really be that old?” Eloise asked, genuinely curious.

“Well, Olive trees have adapted to resist threats that would normally destroy them. For example, they are shorter, so they are less prone to being struck by lightning or unrooted by high winds, and then they develop saplings from the same root, so even if the larger part of the tree suffers from some issue, it can continue living from the offspring”

“I knew there had to be an advantage to being short!” Penelope directed the jest to Eloise, but everyone chuckled.

“There must surely be others?” Benedict asked, teasingly. Colin directed a frown at him and he simply dismissed it.

“I will let you know if any come up” she responded and he bowed with a grin.

“You are so down to earth, Pen!” said Eloise, making her laugh.

“And yet I look up to you, El” This opened up the floodgates and everyone started laughing.

“Well, you can’t look down on anyone, Pen” Colin noted.

“I’ve gotta hand it to you, Penelope, because you probably cannot reach it” said Benedict

“Family, please. You’re all above this!” Said Anthony, hiding his laughter behind a soft fist. But they were all laughing, including Sir Phillip who had at first been very confused by the exchanges at the expense of Miss Featherington, but she seemed to be enjoying the light hearted abuse.

Lady Bridgerton was slightly embarrassed by the display but really she was simply too delighted that Eloise had actually engaged in conversation with a --very eligible – man. Although he seemed to be more at ease talking to Penelope, which could also be a very good match. She had never been so grateful for a raging storm to occur so close to a ball. They would have to deal with the state of the roads and clean up the grounds, but that would be a matter for tomorrow. For now they could let themselves enjoy the evening.

The storm had decreased in intensity, the heavy wind had ceased but the rain was still pouring relentlessly.

After dinner the children were sent up to bed, the ladies retired to the drawing room and the gentlemen stayed behind to have a drink. Colin excused himself as he needed to check on his family upstairs.

When he got into their room, he found Marina packing.

“What is this?” He said, alarmed

“I’m leaving and I’m taking my children with me!”

“You will not do such a thing! First of all there is a damn storm outside, it would be incredibly dangerous! Second of all you are being completely irrational!”

“You do not own me, and you certainly cannot make decisions on my children for me!” She was furious and He could not believe what he was hearing.

“I would never do anything to harm them, Marina, I love them!”

“But you are not their --!” She stopped just short. She had never seen Colin so angry before, it was frightful. He came towards her, towering above her, and grabbed her arm, seething.

“They have my name, do they not? Was that the only thing you wanted from me? To just give you my name and let you live on your own without having a say?” He let go and turned away from her, but looked back to say “We are supposed to be a family!”

“I told you I didn’t want anything to do with that man, and you still went and took my babies to him, and here he is, having dinner with your family! Even Penelope has chosen him over me. I will not let anyone take my children from me”

“Nobody is taking them from you! Were is this coming from?” Her reasoning escaped his comprehension completely. She seemed to be making up scenarios out of thin air. How could he fight her imagination?

She suddenly looked more afraid than angry “How can I trust you will not one day change your mind, if you haven’t even respected my decision on this?”

“Change my mind?” He was confused for a second.

“About me. About staying together” It seemed like an accusation.

“And you thought taking the children in the middle of a stormy night and throwing it in my face that I am not their father would prevent that?” She had no response. He knew she would not concede, she never did, never apologized for she thought anything she did for her children was the right thing. But she had stopped packing and was now sitting still. “It pains me that you do not trust me, but I am a man of my word. For what is worth, Sir Phillip only came to communicate us his plans, not to ask for any kind of approval or permission. And there was absolutely no harm in letting him see the children of his deceased brother, the closest family he has left, while Pen and I were in the room watching over them. Maybe if you share with me the reason of your hatred towards the man I could understand”

“I do not need a reason!” she bellowed.

“Well, I do! He seems honourable and decent and he has made no unreasonable requests.” He waited for a response and got nothing back. He felt drained “You will not leave this house without me, is that understood?” Again a maddening silence “Is that understood!” He raised his voice and Marina nodded this time, a little frightened again. He hated that, but he felt it necessary, given the circumstances. “Good. I will be downstairs. You should go to sleep, do not wait for me.”

He raced downstairs, unsure of where to go, he was still filled with unvented rage. He decided to go outside, even if it was raining, he needed to keep moving, it felt as if the ground may give beneath him and swallow him if he stayed in a single spot. He only made it out onto the terrace, as he found Benedict was there, sitting in peaceful contemplation. He went to lean on the baluster, looking out into the darkness.

“Do you want me to ask, or --” Colin turned his head to face him.

“What are you doing here?”

“They’re playing charades now, it got way too competitive”

“I would think you would enjoy that”

“Too much noise, I am already too anxious about the Academy. I rather enjoy the rain, now that it’s quieted down” He searched his younger brother’s face with concern. “What is it now?”

“Is our visitor still here?”

“He is. Mother wouldn’t let him go since she is so very concerned by his safety” Colin rolled his eyes “Admittedly, we don’t know the state of the terrain and it would be dangerous in the dark, but you know our dear mama is all too pleased with the turn of events”

“If she knew the trouble it has caused me she would not be so happy about it” Colin sounded listless.

“Oh?”

“I will not go into details but Marina has it now in her head that I will leave her and take the children from her” He rolled his eyes.

“Because of Sir Phillip?” That seemed like a very strange leap.

“She does not like the man.”

“I’ll say!” Benedict scoffed “So, will you?”

“Leave her? Of course not!”

Benedict had stood up to stand beside him “I mean, you appear miserable together, Colin. I understand it would be a very scandalous thing, but wouldn’t that be preferable to living like this forever?”

“Benedict, even if Marina doesn’t think so, I became their father the moment I held them in my arms. I would never leave them, and I will certainly not take them from her, nor do I wish to publicly humiliate Marina and send her to live in ignominy. We’ll have to figure out something else.” Benedict gave him a half hug and a kiss on the head.

“I’m coming in now, are you coming along?”

He shook his head “I need another moment”

“Very well”

Colin was left alone to wonder why did he feel he needed to try so damn hard. The woman hadn’t even tried to apologize to him once. She did what she had to for her babies, she would say, as if what she had to do hadn’t been a cruel thing against him, regardless of how necessary she thought it. And he still kept trying every approach possible to make the best of a life together, instead of doing the usual manly thing and leave. Not even divorce, just live his own, separate life, alone – maybe take up a mistress, if he could really want a woman who would accept that sort of sordid arrangement. Were those really the only options? There surely had to be something else to life.

The rain kept falling and he let the sound take over his mind, washing away his thoughts.

When he finally decided to go back inside, he was lured by the sound of laughter coming from the game room. He stood in the doorway, profoundly appreciative of his family. This was all he had wanted.

Sir Phillip was standing next to the fireplace talking to Anthony and Benedict. Colin could not make out what they were discussing, but he caught him glancing at the ladies’ table and he could swear, the man had blushed.

“Eloise, you’re clearly cheating!” Accused Francesca

“I am certainly not! You are such a sore loser, just like Anthony and Gregory” she said that last part loudly for all the room to hear.

“I beg your pardon?” Anthony tried to defend himself.

“Everybody knows it, Anthony. You hate losing! You’re the sorest loser to ever grace this earth” He scoffed.

“Eloise! You will have to excuse my children, Sir Phillip, they seem to have forgotten their manners today”

“I do not mind at all, Lady Bridgerton. Only a loving family could be so bold, it is refreshing and an honour to witness” Violet returned his smile, pleased with his response.

“You cannot be this good at cards, Eloise, it’s preternatural” complained Penelope, with a laugh

“Now, girls, let’s be more observant this next round and we shall see” Violet started shuffling the cards.

“Ah, I think you two are in cahoots!” Francesca accused again.

“How dare you accuse your own mother of such a thing!” Violet asked in a fake offended tone.

“Well, you will have to get to the bottom of this mystery of Eloise’s prowess with cards for me, I must go to bed now.” Penelope got up against the ladies’ protests.

“But we need four to keep playing, you’re just ruining it for everybody, Pen”

“I am sorry to put a damper on your winning streak, El, but I am too tired to be any good at it” But then she noticed Colin standing at the doorway and said with a bright smile “Maybe Colin can join you instead?”

“I must disappoint you, I am in no state for cards at present”

Penelope made her way to the door, which he was still blocking.

“I too, shall retire for the evening, if you’ll excuse me. Good night. Sir Phillip” He said with a nod and moved so Penelope could go through the door, following her.

Once they were at a safe distance, Penelope said “I may not be the best judge of character, but I could not find anything wrong with him this evening” They continued talking as they made their way upstairs.”I think you did well, letting him meet his brother’s children.”

“Thank you. I trust your judgement very much, Pen” He did seem exhausted as he said this.

“I’m not sure you should. I’ve been known to make some mistakes in the past, you know?” She still did not fully believe that he held no resentment against her for her part on Marina’s deception.

“Oh, I’m fully aware that you decided to be friends with Eloise. But she grows on people, so I don’t hold it against you” She laughed.

“Oh, thank you! It’s so very gracious of you to let my one transgression slide!”

He smiled softly “Be careful, though, you only get two more and then you will fall to Benedict’s rung”

“I shall do my best, then” They were both smiling broadly now.

“Good night, Pen”

“Good night Colin”

She couldn’t help but notice that he walked past his family’s rooms, clearly he was not going in there with Marina.

Chapter 6

[misspoetree]

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