#I’ve had this one sitting in my wips forever | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ebaylee422 · 1 year

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I Want Your Video

Steve x Fem!Reader

Author’s Note: Steve won the poll, when I first started really reading fanfiction on tumblr early 2020-2021 there was a fic with mutual masturbation with BestFriend!Steve Harrington and this plays into the very heavy. I’ve been wanting to fuck you forever part for inspo. Also just love Djo’s music so a lot of my WIPs have titles of his music. Requests are open if you want more sexy Steve, thank you for reading!

Summary: Family Video just became a little less family friendly with the new addition of the 18 and older erotic video room. You are more curious than your co-workers about what a dirty movie includes, the sexual tension between you and dreamboat Steve Harrington does nothing for your pent up frustrations.

Characters: Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley, Family Video Worker!Reader, Dustin, Lucas, Mike, Max, El and Will love to pester Steve at his jobs, and gross mentions of Keith.

Warning/Tags: SMUT (Minors DNI), Steve has a huge cock, dry humping, marking, fingering (f receiving), blow job, overstim, small nubbins of insecurities with reader and Steve, Steve and reader share playful banter, a ruined Armchair, dirty talk, pet names, riding (save a horse ride Steve Harrington), we all love boobies, creampie, cum play? As always lmk if I forgot anything!

Word Count: 6.2k

"Well I knew they called it Family Video for a reason, I just never thought they'd take it so literally." You said as the three of you looked to the closed door with the new 18 plus warning sign, taking away your break room.

"Please stop mentioning it.” Robin pinches at the bridge of her nose

"What? At least people don't like, deal porn or try to find it at a public library." Steve adds setting the return tapes on the counter.

"Why would someone go to the library for PORN?" Robin boasts turning to her best friend,

"I don't know Buckley, people are stupid when horny." Steve admonishes

“Does that mean your always horny?” You tease, Steve opens his mouth to retaliated but Robin stops him.

"No, now we just have Keith, who was already always in the back room. Potentially watching adult films on the clock and putting them back." Robin shakes in disgust.

"Like a trial run, he’ll be able to give great recommendations." You add nose scrunched with laughter bubbling in your chest.

"Ew gross." Robin said nauseated

"Look he's creepy, but Keith is not that brave. Any one of us could walk back there." Steve says pointing to the ever closed office and backroom where Keith either naps or throws together a schedule.

"Maybe he wants to be caught?" you nod, taking new tapes to stock in the romance section.

“Maybe he wants you to catch him?” Steve wiggles his eyebrows following you,

"Maybe you want me to smack you in the face-" You turn to find him closer than you anticipated only a few inches separating your body from his.

"What? Don't be a prude now, you're the one who made the conversation interesting." Steve cut you off, chest puffed in challenge. His woodsy, ash, and vanilla smell intoxicating you as the spearmint on his breath floated you back to reality.

"That's because I'm interesting." You dare with a raised eyebrow, as his eyes flicker to your cherry lips.

"God please stop flirting in front of me or I'll get a cavity." Robin whines behind the counter.

"We're not flirting-" You scold, "Okay-" Steve holds his hands up in defense at the same time. You huff and continue down the aisle to stock, red in the face with embarrassment.

Towards the end of your shift the school rush dying down, you sit on the counter with Robin inventorying returns in the computer. Steve is holding the door open for a blonde girl popping her bubble gum with glossed lips. Giggling as Steve makes a fool of himself her chest rising with the laughter, over a Star Wars joke she didn’t understand. Explaining how she had been looking for the film in Alderaan places, and how he was always happy to help a pretty girl like her.

You understood the joke, just because he didn’t know what Ewoks were didn’t mean he never paid attention when you talked about your favorite sci-fi series.

“Stupid.” You mumbled under your breathe, rewinding tapes.

“Huh?” Robin asked, her doe eyes floating along the computers interface confused her mouth hung open.

"Robs, have you ever watched an adult film?" You asked, aggravated and pent up.

"Yeah but there's not a lot in my area of attraction so I just stick to the magazines." Robin motioned toward herself, still clueless to your annoyance.

"Uh-huh, well I want to watch one." Finally being decisive on the embarrassing topic,

"Are we seriously still talking about this?" Steve chips in

"Did you seriously just strike out? You talked with her for like 30 seconds." You said infuriated, turning around to see him leaning over the counter with his stupid fluffy hair and tight polo. Sans a phone number written on his arms or a torn piece of notebook paper.

"Just remember Y/N that's all a man can give sometimes, porn isn't realistic." Robin added knocking her head into your leg in frustrated groan.

“How would you know that?” Steve scrutinized his best friend,

“Is it true?!” Robins eyes were blown wide in astonishment, they immediately started arguing with you the only barrier between them.

"Okay, I'm just gonna go back there and pick one." You slide from the counter, move Robin out of your way, they paused mid-argument to poke at you.

"Go for it, have fun." Robin called

"But not too much!" Steve yelped when she pinched him,

Opening the cliché room, of neon lights with each film had it’s own space on the shelves you began to read some of the titles. Private Teacher, Taboo, I Like to be Watched, Educating Nina, Talk Dirty to Me 1 and 2, 8 to 4, there's honestly too many. So let's just say that the first one, Private Teacher, sounds like it has some plot. You slip it into your vest, walking out of the room to find Steve surrounded by his children.

“Please Steve what’s back there?”

“We just want to take a quick peak!”

“For the millionth time, no. You’re barely 13!”

“We’re actually 14 and or older Steve.” Max says deadpan standing arms crossed next to a girl you think was named Jane or El you weren’t 100% sure.

“Yeah kids leave the guy alone just because he would sneak you into the movie's at Scoops does not mean you get free rain of the porno’s.”

“Porno’s?!” Dustin yells as the rest of the kids shush him, looking around the other Family Video patrons.

“Yeah that’s enough Steve’s posse, your scaring away paying customers.” You shush them out the door,

"Come on, I bet you have some criticism about at least one of these dirty movies." Robin asks Steve who is using every fiber in his being not to embarrass himself in front of you.

"Actually, I haven't watched any of them yet," Steve says while he re-faces the horror films the kids probably messed with earlier.

“Bullshit-” You butt in, Steve turns to defend himself but is saved by Robin’s blabbermouth.

"I do but mostly for the... well you know, porno's aren't progressive in my territory yet." Robin held up the one, where the woman's boobs were almost completely out of her bra and there was a string of spit from her mouth to them.

"Well we could change this week's movie night at my place? This one seemed well loved. 3 rents already, and it’s only been a few weeks." I grabbed 'Private Teacher' walking over to Steve, the man had the woman bent over the desk, one of his hands pulling her hair so show her face for the camera. Her school girl costume left a tasteful amount of skin on show just for the cover. The tagline read ‘Sometimes A Little Private Instruction Is All You Need To Make The Grade’

He only glanced at the cover, "Yeah I'm good, I get my fill with my right hand and watching sappy some romance movies over and over again."

"Ewwww," Robin drones behind the counter. You laugh at his in response holding onto your sides while walking back over to her.

"Obviously, not in that order!" He follows, you pull out some rental money setting on the counter as Robin rang it up.

"Oh come on now, Stevie don't be the prude of the group. Robin will be there too and I know you don't have anything better to do. Since you're always at my house anyway." He scoffs hiding the tape under his elbow when another customer walks in.

"Yeah to get away from my asshole Dad, not to watch porn with you."

"I think he would enjoy the fact you're actually finding a hobby," Robin says, putting the tape into a plastic bag, brushing some hair out of Steve's face. He sticks out his tongue mocking her.

"Yes Robin, you're a truly hilarious comedian of the century. What do I have to do for you both to drop this? Especially as my best friend and basically my boss." You giggle at the obvious answer.

"Just come by tonight, Steve. I don’t wanna watch this alone. And like always bring your tissues for the movie," Robin almost falls over laughing, when you lean over the counter pressing a kiss to his heated cheek before waving goodbye. You spend the rest of your night picking up the apartment, filling the fridge with your friends favorite snacks, and vacuuming. You thought about lighting a candle, debating if that was too romantic to watch a Porno with your co-workers. Lighting it against those thoughts because it made the place smell nice. A knock at the door took you away from the sink of dishes from your breakfast.

“Come in! It’s open guys!” You yell turning off the faucet,

“What if I was a serial killer, Y/N? You’d let me wander about your living room?” Steve brushed his front past you setting a six-pack in the fridge.

“The only serial thing you are Steve is a serial pain in my butt.” You stick you tongue out, head lurching towards the direction of the living room only to find it empty.

“Ha-ha, ha.” Steve mocked, taking off his grey jacket to lay it across the counter before nose diving into the fridge again.

"How was your day? Where’s Buckley?" You pondered wiping your wet hands, the moving his jacket to a chair at the small four person dining table.

“Hanging out with a girl. And other than this chick at work begging me to watch porn with her, it was actually really busy." He threw a grape at where you were at the table, tossing a handful into his mouth with a crunch.

"I totally forgot about it until I was grabbing my wallet at the store, I was kinda embarrassed when I rediscovered it. The lady probably thought I was high as a kite!"

"Because you are," he drooled a little bit, speaking with a full mouth, raiding the fridge full of groceries.

"There's nothing wrong with blowing off some steam with a bit of erotica. Everyone does it," you turned tossing the soiled grape back at him, joining him in the kitchen again.

"Yeah that's gross, it's unspoken. Even creepy old men who can't get it up do it." He swallowed his mouth full then making an obscene gesture with his hand.

"Ew, gross Steve.” You say hands held up in disgust,

"See-"

"Well I'm not a creepy old man," You argued, taking the tape out of your bag. "Besides, it can't be that good or bad. Almost like a true neutral, just people going at it like animals." Walking into the living room, you closed the blinds and navy curtains before setting the tape into the already plugged in VCR.

"Okay hang on a minute, there's way better ways at blowing off steam." Steve interrupts, the fridge slams as his steps grow louder.

"Name a few for me, Lover Boy." You scoffed still bent at the waist, setting everything up at the entertainment center. Round shape of your ass in those acid wash jeans begging to be released. The sight made Steve’s own tighter around his crotch.

"I don't think you want to know mine," he says breathlessly, voice a bit deeper. You stood up and turned to where he stood, his back up against the archway that separated the two rooms. The tape started playing in the middle of the stars going at each other, extremely loud feminine moans rang from the Television. It broke you from the stare down, rushing to turn it down. He came up behind you on the rug, turning everything off altogether. After a pause of shock, you rolled over laughing against the entertainment center, covering your red face with your hands. Steve huffed sitting back on his calves, laughing at it as well. Eyes drifting to the swell of your chest as the laughing made it rise a fall. Dragging the hands down your face, leaning against the shelves. You clocked his stare immediately, his pupils are blown wide, lips slick as if he just wet them. Polo tight across his shoulders but untucked showing off a flash of his soft tummy. You swallowed hard catching your breath.

“Steve?” You reach out to him, his arms grip back at your elbows pulling you up on your knees towards his knees. “I wanna know, I want to know.” His nose pressed to your cheek, lip grazing over yours as he spoke.

“I can show you.” His voice broke, husky and deep exhale along your skin. Your resolve faltered lips fitting like a puzzle against his. You pulled far enough away to split for air, only Steve followed pressing you closer together. Hand resting along your neck, holding you to him.

"What's wrong?" You looked at him worried a line creasing your forehead he reached out to soothe.

"Nothing, you're just so...beautiful." He let his eyes wander, admiring that you’d even gave him the time of day.

“I want you. I want you to show me.”

“Okay.” Connecting again fireworks exploded behind your eyes. He pulled your top lip between his, you returned by licking the slope of his bottom lip from an open mouth kiss. Steve groaned, allowing you in. He tasted of the grapes from moments ago and spearmint of the gum he chewed to stop smoking, it was sickly sweet. My hand from his thigh came up to brush away the free fallen hair from getting in our way, the strands of hair were so soft, surprising, no matter how many times you’d wished to touch them. Pushing your chest against his, raising up on your knees deepening the kiss. He sunk down to a seated position, crossing his legs and leaning his head back to a lower level. It gave more access, he kept his hands in nice places like; nape of your neck, tangled hair, cheeks, small of the back and waist. You nipped his bottom lip, pulling gently then watched it fall back in place. He gripped one of your thighs, sending shocks of anticipation up your core. He kneaded, silently wanting for sometime. Everything was too good to break away and use words. You just obediently moved one leg at a time to sit on his lap. Using his shoulders to steady, lowering onto his lap. He whimpered in anticipation in you mouth, your heat grazed the zipper of his jeans. At the friction you gasped, lips swollen and lungs out of air, as you pressed foreheads together. Eyes opening to see him staring with hopefulness, eyes wide open. You teased lightly trailing lips over his. Waiting for a reaction, but he stayed firm. Hands on the ground by his sides holding you upright. Breathing as one for a moment before he spoke,

"I've thought about this moment for a very long time," He said only for the two of you, your fingers rubbed the five o’clock shadow of his jaw in your waiting hands "I want to, so terribly. I don't know where to go from here..."

He smiled a dorky smile into your skin, keening at the contact of you against him.

"Then stop talking and kiss me again." He obeyed, trailing his lips down to your jaw, throat and to your collar, moving the fabric slightly he started softly sucking and rolling his tongue over the area. Your hands desperately clung to the back of his head, he moved closer to the pot of your collarbones and throat leaving wet kisses. He stopped his mouth looking up, with those caramel eyes so full of devotion. Mind going fuzzy, seeing the way he not only looked but saw into you. The way he always has. "Don’t stare at me like that,"

"Like what?" He let the collar of the shirt scrunch back in place the movement made you squeeze your thighs around his middle, eyes rolling back in his skull.

"Like you want to kiss me or something." His hands both came up to brush his thumbs along your ribs, fronts pressed against each other.

"I will never stop looking at you like that, no matter what happens.” He smiled, “I gave you my heart long ago." You kissed him more primal this time, needing to taste him and etch the feeling of him into your mind. He was moaning into the embrace, he still barely touched as you tugged at his shirt below, when he broke contact to pull it over his head you stopped the kiss to admire his chest.

"Steve..." You wheezed through bloated lips. "Touch me, it's okay. You can't hurt me" He kissed back hard, slipping his hands underneath your tight work shirt, his hands cold against the hot skin covering your spine. Breaking free from his lips pressing kisses on his face, down his throat cooing into him when he unclasped your bra with one hand in a single fluid motion. Running his hands over your bare back, unknowingly while you rotated your hips in small circles against his wanting more. Craving the contact and friction of him against you. He daintily ran his hands down your body hesitantly gripping the plush of your ass adding more pressure to the growing friction. His zipper felt so good against your own, letting go of your lips on his neck throwing your head back. As the feeling of his hard-on pressed up against your clit. Putting both hands on the floor behind you while he moved your hips against each other in sync, panting and grinding seeking release. Steve's abdomen flexed as he twitched under you, he was cumming loudly moaning your name from his pink lips. It sounded like a song when he said it, his release came fast, his chest heaving heavily as he pulled your body back against him. Hugging each other till lips grazed, as he came down from his high. You tried to suppress the giggle as his hands traced shapes along the small of your back.

"What are you so giddy about? You just made me cream my pants like a middle schooler." You shook your head tracing at the mark I left on his shoulder,

"Well since we're already past the point of no return. I didn't think you would be so loud." you pulled back lip bitten between teeth,

"Maybe if you weren't mauling me like a hungry lion, I could've stayed quiet." He tucks his head under your chin,

"I told you, I’m a lion girl not a ninja.” He laughed across your throat warming you as he kissed the flesh again. “Maybe I should pounce effectively, so I can really hear you scream my name." Steve stopped abruptly to meet your eyes, pupils blown wide, you felt immediately self-conscious blabbering out an apology before he could turn you down. "I’m so sorry, was that too much?"

"No...” He purred, this close you could tell the scent of him was distinctly cedar. “I've actually never been more turned on." He pushed his lips to mine, rolling our tongues against each other, knowing exactly what you liked. He tightened his grip on on the fat of your hips and making you moan into him, pulling away his lips, forehead glistening, his eyes full of lust. He trailed his fingers up to help the offensive fabric of your shirt off, the bra slowly falling the rest of the way off your shoulders. His length twitched against the inside of your thigh again, he was entranced by the image. Still as a statue until guiding his lips down to the spot on you chest that made the world melt. He kissed everywhere, you kept each hand in his hair scratching at his scalp pleasantly. Leaning forward he placed your back against the carpet, hovering on top of but keeping himself slotted between your legs. Involuntarily moaning when he licked at erect nipple, he mirrored the same to the other one. His dick throbbed against the stain of cum, straining against the fabric. Kissing each while he unzipped the high waist of your jeans. You bucked your hips and helped him pull them down, he took them off your trapped ankles, restarting his descent to kiss down the length of your body again. Wet open mouth kisses making shooting sparks through your body at the intimate contact, grabbing his hand on the ground.

“You are even more beautiful than my dreams ever allowed. Everything, you are everything.” His eyes silently asking for permission. As he slid a hand under the fabric of the green panties. You gasped loudly at the unbridled new contact of his palm, lowering to gather the dampness, trailing it up to your clit. He circled twice as his other fingers began to slowly plunge inside. You keened, calves dug into the bare flesh around his waist, “You're so wet for me,” sighing, hands finding purchase on his biceps, he hissed as his face fell into your neck.

“Uhh… Harder.” You held his arms with such intensity, leaving crescent marks into the skin digging hard into his muscle. Turning you chin down to find his lips to kiss, and silencing moans together his thumb began to swirl faster, his middle and ring finger able to go a little deeper with the changing hand position. Not being able to control the heat coursing through, you squeezed his hips harder. He whimpered, pressing himself up against your thigh rutting the fabric against himself for some contact. “Your fingers feel so good…” Moving lower, spreading wider to move your hips against his fingers, they worked expertly to consume all your senses. He pushed in a little further and harder, forcing you to look at what he was doing so wonderfully between your legs. Moaning obscene words, as your back arched further his fingers scissoring to stretch your walls. Clenching around his fingers that disappeared inside. “Holy shit- don’t stop.” Your hands fell to the floor grabbing the shag of the rug underneath, as muscles tensed unlike anything you’ve felt before. You came hard without warning, the orgasm spread through you, completely overwhelming, your legs shook out your high as he kept going, pressure building through your bladder before you felt a light gush.

"Fuck" He whispered in you ear, you could feel the shit eating grin off of his body language.

"I haven’t done that before," you tell him.

"Yeah me either, ya know to a girl… I do that every time," he said into your neck, your cheeks instantly flushed. Laughing at his dorkiness, he moved your panties back in place. His fingers parted his lips, licking them clean of your arousal. You felt him throbbing against your thigh as you lightly pushed off the ground. Taking Steve's hand, you pushing him back to climb on the Lazy Boy you'd recently bought.

“What are you thinking, Sweets?” his voice was dark, he moved up the chair and sat. Spreading his legs for you, like the good boy he’d been.

“I just want to clean up my seat, Lover Boy.” You knelt down unbuckling his jeans, pulling them down and his ruined underwear. Letting him finally be free from the confines of the fabric, his cock flung back up pre leaving a pearlescent trail on the course hair of his happy trail. Steve was massive, how he’d fit into those jeans daily made your head spin. You would make him fit, even if his cock impaled your insides.

“You don’t have to, no one’s been able to take all of me before.” He took your wanderlust as fear, and shit now you had to prove him wrong too. Your nails ran up his thighs as you collected some spit in the front of your mouth. Letting it drip onto the head, nails gripping his thigh to hold him in place you took the other hand and ran it across his length. Hitting the large vein along his shaft with your thumb, he pushed his head back against the plush chair. Fighting to buck up into you with everything in his body and mind not to blow his load again or buck up into you. He was breathing extremely heavily now, you gently kissed his red tip and watched as his fingers dug into the armrests. He held his breath a bit before you squeezed his thigh, then he exhaled. You then licked a long stripe down his shaft, you came back up to the tip flicking it with your tongue.

“Jesus, stop with the teasing Sweets,” You smiled like a siren, before holding him with a hand stroking up and down with your lips wrapped around the tip. He accidently to bucked his hips, you pressed his pelvis down taking in his full length.

“Holy shit!” Steve gasped. Hollowing your cheeks, you worked him to a pulp as your jaw went slack. His hands reached out to grab the hair that fell covering how you looked sucking him. Pulling it all to one hand, he didn’t need to guide your head, you were able to bob your head down him with a fair amount of ease with how wet you’d gotten his shaft. Tearing up and gaging if you went too slow, but it was well worth the noises coming from his beautiful lips. He watched in awe as you swallowed around him, eyes watery and spit slick chin, moving your second hand under his heavy sack you massaged them with each upstroke. HIs eye closed tightly as he twitched inside your mouth throwing his head back warning you. You took it all with a delightful swallow, helping him ride out the rest of his high with a hand. The only time he pulled his makeshift ponytail was when he could’ve cried from the stimulation. You relented with a pornographic pop, wiping your chin with the back of your hand and slowly stood going to straddle him, he playfully grabbed your body and pulled you to him on the lounge chair.

“That was way better than any other girl or me just watching porn.” you looked at him mouth agape, he was eye level with your bare chest.

“See, I knew you watched porn. A shit ton of it.” you slapped his chest.

“Yeah, but nothing compares to the real thing,” he began to kiss the marks he already started on your chest, in places only he’d only been allowed too. Your hands cupped his face for him to look at you. He smiled his beautiful heartfelt smile,

“Why didn’t we do this sooner?”

“I don’t know but Robin is the best wing women ever. She told me if I didn’t kiss you tonight I shouldn’t even bother showing my face at work tomorrow.”

“Wait, what is Robin doing?”

“She cancelled so we could in her words ‘either fuck away the tension out or kill each other’ .”

“Well she is definitely my favorite lesbian. That multi-lingual B is a genius. I would’ve let you do this even if you’d just. I don’t know asked me on a date.”

“Bullshit-, really?”

“Are you kidding?! You are so out of my league Steve, I’ve never been in your ballpark ever in my life.” He grimaces, thumb tracing idling along your hip bone.

“I’ve always thought you were the most beautiful, smart and caring girl. I’ve ever had the privilege of knowing, and I selfishly want you all to myself.” he whispers with affection you’d never heard from him before. Adam’s apple bobbing with his thick swallow of emotion.

“Then you have me.” he bit back a smile as his lip clashed with yours passionately kissing you, he faintly pulled your hair. You moaned at the action, spine tingling as you roamed your hands around his frame. Mapping out ever mole and divot along his heated skin. Trailing them back and forth on his chest like a sensual massage. He moved his hands to get a better angle on your hips, and began rowing them against himself. You both groaned at the friction, “Look who’s the tease now,” you pouted at him as a finger inched it way to your clit tracing tight consistent circles. Your nails tear at his shoulders with pleasure, making him shudder under you. ‘God how many rounds could you go with him’ “Please… uh. Tell me you're ready.” you push your head into his neck, his fingers had already fine-tuned your pleasure. He stopped, fingers yanking your scalp to crash your lips to his. He still rowing you against his length, until his lungs screamed for air.

“I’m always ready, how do you feel about this?” he stops his motions, you felt unfulfilled when the movement ceased. You brain finally grasping some clarity, Steve would stop everything here if you wanted him too. Helping you re-dress and seeing himself out. Never telling a soul if you’d asked, he’d be celibate if you’d ask. Buying you the finest ring until your wedding night then ravishing you in your honeymoon bed.

“This doesn’t change the way I feel about you. You’re perfect to me Steve.” he gave you a sinful smile, reaching his hand under your adjoined hips pushing you up onto your knees. While he finished working himself up, you waited as patiently as you could by marking his neck.

“God you're so wet for me, these panties are drenched after sucking me. We should’ve gotten rid of them, already.” His eyes were playful, and needy for more and all of you. He helped you stand, putting your hands on his shoulder to balance you as you took them off. Just the sight of you fully naked made his heart ache, he kissed your arm lips too far for his liking. Wanting even more contact, he grabbed your waist again leaning back into the chair. You kissed him lazy, you both were fucked out of your minds already. Now it was just comforting, you had all the time in the world. It was slow, sweet, his lips were so soft you still felt them all over your body. His hands roamed but craved to rest on your chest above your heart. You pressed your forehead against his, catching your breath. His hands on your hips, guided you gently down as you felt him at your entrance.

“Take your time, Sweets. I want us to enjoy this,” nipping at your forearm while sitting himself farther up the chair, feet still planted on the ground.

“You want me to top, you?”

“Is that a problem?”

“I haven’t done that… Before.” You told him shyly,

“Well, well. Looks like we're about to enter a new realm of pleasure for you…” Licking his lips, “just take me in your hand and guide yourself down at your own speed, Sweetheart.” His comforting words sent a tingle down your spine, you put your hands on the soft skin where his pelvis lies. He just observes your movements gripping your hips like a steering wheel, mouth awestruck as you lower yourself down onto him. His hands dig into you, as you let him fill your insides. Immediately he’s touching things you’ve never felt, it’s painful in the most remarkable way.

“Shit, babe. Oh my god. Didn’t-Didn’t think you’d take all of me on the first go.” he shifts pulling your chest so he can latch on to his dark purple mark there. It causes a rush inside you even just the slight motion making you want to explode.

“Feels so full, god your fucking humongous Steve.” You whined, high pitched and needy. The ach of his cock started to morph from a burn to a stretch faster than you thought as your arousal dripped down your thighs. In brief circles you moved your hips against him, keeping him completely sheathed inside. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, he moves his hands to your thighs squeezing hard making you grind faster. He comes up for air from you chest and lets out a gracious moan,

“Stevie, pull the handle.” you whimper at him,

“What?” he mutters breathlessly.

“Holy shit, just…” you're on the brink of another powerful orgasm, pussy gripping him like a vice ”pull the handle back, trust me.” he lets go of one of your thighs frantically looking for the handle on the side of the recliner. He finally finds it and pulls hard, sending his lower body up into yours and your upper body over his. You both moan in ecstasy, his hand going back to your thigh. Sitting back up, you place one hand on his lower abdomen and the other on his hairy thigh behind you. He continues to groan affirmations and your name at the changed position, sending you over a small cliff. Only adding to the larger knot in your stomach, running up your body.

“Keep going I want you to cum, cum around my fat cock.”

“Don’t stop, stay right there. I want it all.” You pant feeling him twitch inside you, moving your hips with his.

“God you're so wet, and you ride me so good Sweetheart.” he playfully smacks your ass, you change your position again to bring your lips to his. He moves your body up and down while kissing you, letting you dominate his mouth while he starts to push harder into you. Propelling himself up, while his hands push you down into him in an erratic give and take. This is what you’ve needed, this was perfect but not even the start for both of you. He continues to praise you through breaths of pleasure “I got you” , “I can make you feel so good, Sweetheart.”, he gets filthier and louder and you keep moving, riding each other to passionate oblivion. Your mind ventures to his lips all over you, yours on him, the coil in between you wraps him tightly inside you. Your body starts to shake from the high, you press your upper body against his chest the hair rubbing against your hardened nipples.

"Good girl, milk my cock. Feels so good, gunna cum. You gotta move Sweets."

“Want to feel you, feel you dripping out of me Steve.” He mewls, clinging to you.

“Shit. Beg me for it, tell me how bad you want me to cum inside you.”

“Oh Steve,” you open your eyes, pressing your forehead down to meet him, his open too. You clutch your walls around him harder as he tries to finish riding your orgasm, “Please.” You whimper. That’s all it takes he gasps and finally bursts in you. Lips soothing against yours for that other contact. You feel the hot liquid inside you, wringing him dry of everything that he could possibly have left.

Separating for air out of the kiss, feeling his hot breaths against your cheeks, he groans, swallowing hard at the sensitivity. You brush your hair off of your sweaty face, holding onto the back of his neck to see him better. His eyes gleamed with passion, you smiled back.

“My legs are jelly,” you laugh in his face,

“I’ll take that as an answer to my question then,” he smiles, lifting your hips up. He easily slips out of you, you groan in frustration at the emptiness between your legs. Hissing at the loss as well, his abs quiver against the softness of your soft tummy. He pushes the foot rest back, so he can sit upright in the chair. Capturing his lips in yours, leaning you back as he holds you manhandling your hips, rotating you forward to help you stand.

“I could kiss you forever.” He admits kissing your shoulders as you put your feet on the cold floor, pushing off of his knees. You wobble slightly,

“See,” you turned to face him again, pulling him up to stand together face to face. He stumbled a bit too, “completely fucked out of my mind.” He wraps his arms around your waist swaying you slightly in an embrace.

“You did so good, Sweetheart. We should get cleaned up.”

“I did good, how did you not run out of cum? Three rounds your insatiable.”

"Told you, I don't joke about my porn." He winks, kissing the corner of your mouth as he picks up your discarded clothes on the floor of the living room.

"No wonder you're idolized by 14 year old boys." You roll your eyes, picking up your panties. This time when you bend own he can see his spend dripping down your slit. He chuckles from behind you a free hand, coasting down your stomach to your heat. You gasp as his fingers collect his cum from your thighs, you spin in his hold to meet his eyes.

"Open." Steve commands, eyes clouding with lust as he watches you stick your tongue out for him. His fingers slide along your tongue covered in each other's spend. It's comforting, salty, and heady against your tongue. You moan around him, sucking the taste clean from his fingers. He fingers slip out tongue replacing them, as he tips your chin up to meet his lips deeper, tongue kneading yours as he memorizes you. Inside and out.

“You know,” You murmur into his mouth as his mouth strays from yours coasting to mouth down your jaw. “I have a camcorder somewhere in my closet.” He freezes lips parted and eyes wide.

“Yeah? You don’t want to finish the movie? I was just starting to enjoy it.” You pout your lips, while he picks up all of the clothes from various places you threw them.

“Yeah... We could or..?”

“Or?”

“If you wanted we could make are own video?” Steve doesn’t even dictate your question with a response only hoisting you over his shoulder and burying you in the mattress for the rest of the night.

Masterlist

#steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #family video #lesbians are the best wing women #robin buckley matchmaker #stranger things smut #stranger things season 4 #no minors allowed #reader insert #oneshot #stranger things

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crazy-ache · 3 months

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Elain Archeron x Lucien Vanserra Fanfiction Check out my full list below.

Oneshots

Title: Beasts Inside Us NSFW | Lucien Rescues Elain | Smut | Oneshot While staying in the mortal lands with the Band of Exiles, Elain Archeron stumbles across a familiar face from her past. Only Graysen wants revenge. Her only hope is that her mate, Lucien Vanserra, can save her—in more ways than one.

Title: Separate My Body From My Soul NSFW | Elain Rescues Lucien | Forced Mating Bond | Oneshot “I am Elain Archeron, sister of the High Lady of Night, Feyre the Cursebreaker. I’ve come to demand the release of Lucien Vanserra back to the custody of the Night Court.”

"And why would I do that?" The High Lord of Autumn demanded.

“Because he is my mate.”

When Lucien Vanserra is held captive by his father in the cruel depths of Autumn, there is only one force more powerful than politics that can save him—his mating bond with Elain Archeron. She must make the choice to save him, even if it means binding their souls forever.

Title: Call Me Selfish, Call Me Wrecked NSFW | Arranged Marriage | Smut | Oneshot Like countless times before, they’re dangling Elain in front of him without a mention of her name. And for once, Lucien decides to selfishly take it. “I’ll marry her,” he pretends to investigate his nails, even if his heart is about to burst from his fucking chest. “But only if she agrees to it as well. That’s my only condition.”

Elain agrees. Lucien learns the consequences of not shutting up.

Title: A Cut Above the Rest SFW | Oneshot | Elain and Lucien on the run “Wait!” Elain clambered to her feet, jumping off the bed. He looked at her expectedly, dagger in one hand and a handful of hair in the other. What was there to say? That she had always secretly adored his hair just the way it was? That he couldn’t possibly cut it before she even had the chance to run her fingers through it? “Let me do it,” she said.

While on the run in the Continent, Elain and Lucien must discuss what has remained unspoken after a frightening incident.

Title: Courting Lucien Vanserra NSFW | Idiots to Lovers | 2/3 Chapters Completed “I think it may be too late for us, that I was a wretch for far too long and now he wants nothing to do with me—” Elain blurted out in a teary confession to her sisters. Nesta, face like stone, hissed. “Then there is only one thing left to do. You must thoroughly and ardently court him.”

Elain’s tears stopped rolling down her face with utter confusion. “Court him?”

“You need to seduce Lucien,” Feyre clarified with a feral grin.

Title: bet on me SFW | Drinking Games | Oneshot Elain is caught sulking at her sister's mating ceremony. Lucien wagers a drinking game to prove who knows the other best.

“Go on. Tell me all about myself, Lucien Vanserra.”

And there is the matter of something charged sitting between them at the table. He was challenging her. An invitation for friction, a consideration to be included in the joke, a bid to entwine in something deliciously improper. Elain could not remember the last time anyone had offered her anything remotely tantalizing.

Title: i would stay forever (just don't go) SFW | Oneshot “You! You torment me, Lucien. Day and night. You fill my dreams and nightmares." Elain struggles to know what is real and not real. And only Lucien can help.

Title: in eternal bloom SFW | Lucien Meets Papa | Oneshot On the quest to find the sixth mortal queen, Lucien Vanserra meets a human with brown eyes and that same stubborn Archeron nose. Together, on their search for Vassa, Lucien befriends Elain’s father, and learns a bit more about his mate.

Title: curses and gifts SFW | GroundhogDayAU! | Oneshot

In which Elain is cursed to live that fateful day with the Cauldron again and again and again. Until a choice is made.

Multi-Chapter

Title: Dear Lucien, Dear Elain: An Epistolary Fic (in collaboration with @zenkindoflove) SFW | Letter Fic | Multichapter - WIP After the winter solstice in ACOSF, Elain and Lucien exchange letters as a means to get to know each other away from prying eyes.

Title: Divine Punishments NSFW | Elain Saves Spring | Multichapter Elain foresees a curse in the form of terrible visions. An unexplained plague was coming and the immortal fae were going to suffer and die by the rotten sickness. She needs to meet her fate—with her powers and her mating bond—if she hopes to save Spring.

Drabbles

Title: Choke on Desire Drabbles | Crossposted on Tumblr | Various Genres If we do the unthinkable, would it make us look crazy? If you ask me, I'm ready.

#elucien #elucien masterlist #elucien fic #elucien fanfiction #crazyache writes

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mooreaux · 10 months

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Wip Wednesday!

Thanks for the tag @big-cheesy-productions ! I have a sad amount of personal WIPs to show bc I’ve been so busy with comms lately but here’s a few!

Also tagging @sermna @brambeag @skeltrr @mrdraws for this hehe

A wip of Tyne showing Ali some cool magic along w besties Leli and Zev. Tyne’s face bothers me here so this one has been sitting in wip purgatory for a while now.

A cut out of a bigger piece with Maud and Caliban because I love my babies so much . Have not had a ton of inspo to work on this piece bc we haven’t played their campaign in like a year , but hopefully we will get back to it soon!

And this one of jo and Hektr which I’m sure will forever stay a wip lol. Hektr takes nine million years to do his makeup and Jo is so tired of it.

#my art #my oc #dnd #dragon age #pathfinder #homeland #maud hawke #Caliban ravenson #Johannes volkvolka #Hektr Cervantes #Tyne Surana

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bettsfic · 8 months

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hi betts!

i’ve been a fan of yours for years now (training wheels is one of my favorite stories— not just fics. stories— ever, and i really admire your style. as a writer myself, i want to ask how you’re able to keep your motivation up to complete your projects? i feel like i start out so motivated when i fall in love with an idea, but once that fevered haze fades, it’s almost impossible for me to get the motivation i need to write. i have a few wips that i feel so guilty about not finishing/not wanting to finish/wanting to finish but being unable to get the inspiration to. so, in short, how do you maintain the motivation to finish your wips?

thank you so much! i'm glad to hear it; training wheels is still very dear to me.

first, if you want a step by step guide to finishing your wips, i wrote a tutorial earlier this year in my newsletter.

also as i've said elsewhere, i believe it's more important to follow your inspiration and interest where it takes you even if it means not finishing things. one of the reasons i love fanfic is because it's the only genre i can think of where you get to read unfinished works and be present during the writing of them.

but you asked about *my* motivation to finish things, and i'll say it's taken me a long time to build the endurance necessary not only to complete big projects but also complete them to my satisfaction. in my experience, the better you are at finishing things, the worse you become at starting them, and so whereas i used to have a million wips and ideas happening at once, now i can see the ridiculous endeavor ahead of me and pick my battles more knowledgeably.

also, i don't finish everything, especially not right away. sometimes i sit years on a story before i eventually come back to it. but i've found that it's inevitable that when i put something down that i care about, i'll come back around to it when i'm ready. it's not something i have to force. my attention and interest bounces around all over the place but the things i love, i love forever. so i'll always come back around to them.

most importantly--and this is really very important--i lie to myself.

here are the two main lies i tell myself:

"this is the best thing i've ever written," and

"i'm almost done."

being a little delusional is a huge benefit as a writer. if you're too honest with yourself nothing can get done. but i've always had a natural talent for convincing myself of things that aren't true and although that's gotten me in a lot of trouble in all other aspects of my life, in writing it keeps me just far enough away from reality that i can finish things.

the process is something like this:

vague story idea!

will probably be very small, the shortest story i have ever written in fact

begin writing

feels good, feels organic

no no that's not right, bad vibes

start over

ohhh i see what i'm trying to do

outline the tiniest, easiest outline i have ever made. five bullet points. this happens, and then this and this, and the story ends. EASY

will finish by tomorrow, probably

write write write

will finish by tomorrow, probably

write write write

definitely tomorrow, almost done

check word count. 25k. uh oh

doesn't matter, almost done. have *checks* four out of five bullet points to go

write write write

five point bullet outline no longer effective

re-outline. five points turns into five pages. uh oh

check word count. 60k. big yikes

but! almost done! will finish tomorrow, probably

write write write

get stuck? how? but the outline...

the outline is ineffective. re-outline.

check word count. 100k. :(

almost done :)

a plot knot arises. spend six hours staring at a wall to undo the plot knot

plot knot is more insidious than expected. open new document. start over

*now* i'm almost done

rewrite, restructure, reorganize

check word count. 20k. :(

write write write

check word count. 200k. :((

weeks-long fugue state during which i am god

awaken to filthy apartment. i have not eaten a vegetable in many days. i have not seen the sun.

eat a broccoli

go outside

am i living? am i truly living? is this all life is? am i loved? am i worth loving?

return to safety of fictional world to avoid existential despair

write write write

will finish by tomorrow, probably

so it's really less about motivation to finish and more about motivation to chase down an increasingly elusive feeling of joy through immersion into worlds of my own making and control. it's way easier to run away from something than toward it.

#writing advice #motivation #process #listen i'm not saying i have a healthy relationship with writing #if you can do it healthier than i do that's what i recommend

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wonhosmistress · 8 months

Text

Aphrodisia: Hyunjin (Pt.1)

Synopsis: Reader opens her dream BDSM dungeon in Seoul which only a few idols in the kpop industry know about.

Pairing: Sub!Hyunjin x Domme afab!Reader

WC: 5.7k

CW: Intro to BDSM themes (pretty tame)

A/N: This has been in my WIPs forever and I’ve decided to make it 2-4pts for Hyunjin. So to get the series started and give my readers something to look forward to, I decided to post the intro to the first part. I've been trying to thoroughly edit this damn part for ages but just gave up, so be aware that there might be major grammar mistakes. I'm but one person and life isn't being that great with me at the moment :) (Enjoy🖤✨)

Tags: @imrllytootiredforthis @bdscsjhb @nirvanawrites111 (Lmk if you want to be tagged for the next parts/idols)

After months of going through the hassle of picking colors, fabrics, merchandise, sex toys, the types of chains for the beds, and the décor with even the smallest details. Her dungeon had finally come together; it had been years in the making and she was officially satisfied with how everything in each room smoothly tied in with other rooms. She sat on the black baroque chair behind her and admired the colors, textures, aesthetics, and intimate aura in the room. How she had dreamed of this for the longest time and couldn't wrap her head around that she finally achieved it. The notification ping pulled her attention to her phone, noticing a slender man approaching the building she got up and made her way towards the front desk as the black-haired man entered her business.

"How can I help you?" She smiled warmly at him trying to not intimidate him. He looked to be about seven inches taller than she was but also seemed to have a very soft and timid aura which she noticed considering how stunned he was by the environment around him.

He remained quiet and wanted to say something but felt all the blood rush to his face. The embarrassment grew the longer he kept silent. Before he redirected his gaze towards her she wore matte black platform heels with a black pencil skirt, a belt, and a short-sleeved gray turtleneck. He looked at her features and as tall as he was, he felt like prey in front of a predator and wanted to leave this place but his body wouldn't let him.

She took note of how nervous he was and felt so bad for him that he was probably not the type of person who would go out of his way to seek out this service. Maybe he unintentionally stumbled his way here? He wore a loose, striped, red and orange sweater semi-form-fitting white jeans, and some white shoes. She took a couple of steps to get closer to him and placed her hand softly on his shoulder.

"Hey, are you okay?" Her voice rang through his ears and he looked at her. His cheeks had a pink tinge and looked like he was about to cry.

"Oh honey, no. Would you like to sit?" she asked him hoping he'd at least give her a response since he had not said anything since he walked in. She guided him towards a small waiting room which she hoped to be less overstimulating and overwhelming for him.

She sat him down and handed him a water bottle as she sat next to him. "Here drink some water, it will help a bit." She told him and he couldn't help but do so even if he wasn't thirsty.

"So, tell me. Why did you come in?"

Hyunjin looked directly at his shoes avoiding eye contact with her once again and fidgeting with the bottle of water in his hands. "Hey, it's okay. I don't judge obviously by the business I'm soon to run." She smiled at him, placing her right hand on top of his in a warm yet comforting manner.

"I-i..don't know. I thought I knew what I was doing."

Maybe at some point, he felt sure enough to come into the business but there was no way to be sure unless he was honest with her. Which she doubted considering how long it took him to even talk to her. "What do you mean?" She looked interested in what he meant by that.

"I guess. I looked up some information online and while some places popped up yours didn't. I got a recommendation from a friend who knows someone you know and your business."

"Recommendation?" she wondered, a bit confused. "Oh, who was it if you don't mind me asking?" "Wonho." He said. She smiled and chuckled. "Yeah, I know him."

"Did he tell you I was going to be here today?" He nodded.

She wondered why he didn't come on a day when the dungeon would be open. Until she realized that might have been too much for him to experience for the first time, which made sense why he was now sitting beside her and just now talking to her.

"What was the reason for your visit?" He cleared his throat trying to let out more words but he couldn't and so she decided to take the initiative.

"Okay. Let's start with something simple, Whatever I ask, just say yes or no, okay?"

He nodded in agreement and waited for her. "First things first, what's your name? This isn't part of the yes or no questions." He looked at her trying hard to maintain eye contact but was failing miserably, "Hyunjin." "It's a pleasure to meet you, Hyunjin." She smiled at him.

"How old are you; You seem pretty young, and I don't want to move forward unless you clear that up." "23." "Oh wow. You have the physical appearance of a teenager." She mentally sighed in relief, thankful he wasn’t a teenager.

"Now that we got that out of the way." "I'm guessing you know the purpose of this place?" She asked hoping he would know because if that wasn't the case she would have to teach him

"Kinda." He seemed a bit uncertain but that didn't worry her because she would gladly tell him if he was comfortable with it. "Ok great! Since you kind of answered that, does that mean you know what kinks are?" "Yes." "And from those kinks do you have any that you consider embarrassing or disgusting?" "Y-yes." He stuttered trying to look up at her but he couldn't. Hyunjin was trying to determine what made certain kinks disgusting but he wasn't too sure.

"Um...what makes certain kinks disgusting?" He asked timidly.

She smiled that he went out of his way to ask at least one question.

"Well, it's more complex than that." Oh. Hyunjin wondered what she meant by that. As he fidgeted with his hands trying to distract himself from the sheer embarrassment.

"Kinks can be determined from something simple that someone enjoys and brings relaxation or it can be something that was conditioned."

"In the Kink world, we don't consider any kink disgusting. If anyone tells you they're uncomfortable, it's just a matter of finding the right person who would be comfortable and willing to explore that kink with you." She assured Hyunjin hoping that he would feel a bit more at ease.

Did that mean that Hyunjin wasn't disgusting for having such embarrassing kinks? Did that mean he was just trying to convince himself that he was a dominant guy?

"Hyunjin, can you tell me something that you find disgusting?"

Once again, he remained quiet and couldn't bring himself to say that he liked it when strong women degraded him. How he relished being punished after acting out like a complete brat, how he liked to push their buttons to see how far someone would go to make him whine and moan like a needy slut. How he had a love/hate relationship with the fact that he loved being on the verge of tears as he was edged and how he loved being overstimulated.

"Hyunjin." She snaps him out of his embarrassing thoughts.

"If you don't tell me. I can't help you out."

She was right but the thing about this unreal situation was that he didn't understand how she could be so comfortable talking about such a taboo topic.

What was it? What led her to this current position?

He turns his neck slightly looking at her and taking in her soft facial features. "Can I ask you something?" She stared at him in shock and replied with a simple, "Yes, go ahead."

The only way for him to feel comfortable talking about anything kink-related was for him to at least get to know her a bit. Which she had nothing against, if it were a client she wouldn't reveal much about herself. She needed to be careful in this business. “How did you end up here?” Hyunjin was genuinely curious about what she would say.

"Let's just say I have experience and I've been wanting to open this business for a while now. I wanted people new to the kink world to feel comfortable and so here I am and here it is standing."

So she had more experience than he did and that made him feel smaller than he already did, he felt stupid for not being open with her and so before he even realized he could feel tears streaming down his face. She looked at him speechless at what had transpired and felt bad for him, "Oh, Hyunjin." she said in a soft empathetic tone.

Not even saying his name twice would get him to look at her and so she gently grabbed his wrists and pushed them down so she could look at his face. His hands were now resting on his thighs and hers were touching the warm skin on his cheek.

"What's wrong?" She looked at his face and it was the first time during this interaction that she noticed how strong yet delicate his features were. His jawline was sharp enough to make any woman swoon over him but it blended well with the rest of his face, his cheeks were just slightly round enough to fit his appearance.

"Y-you probably think I'm stupid for crying over how much experience you have and I don't." He admitted as hung his head low in shame.

"Hey, no that's not true. I never would, Why would you think that?" She asked, wiping the tears away with her thumb.

Why was she being so kind and understanding?

"You wouldn't believe the number of people I've come across that are either embarrassed about their sexual preferences or completely new to this world. Believe me, when I say that I was once in your position. I was new and I didn't know what to do with all the information given to me."

She was trying to make him as comfortable as possible with the current situation at hand. He looked at her soft yet empathetic expression. “How about I give you a tour of the place and if you're curious, just let me know so I can clear up what happens here?”

He nodded in response and after that, she got up, headed toward the black curtain, pushed it back, and extended her hand out.

He remained on the loveseat staring at her waiting patiently for him and couldn't help but stare at her slender hand. Observing how she had her nails done, a coffin style and a black matte coat to top it off.

Everything about her seemed so intimidating yet so warming.

He stood up and finally took her hand and led him back to the entrance where the front desk was. As soon as she let go of his hand the warm embrace that once enveloped him quickly dissipated; he felt the anxiety and fear from the pit of his stomach and he hated every second of it.

“Are you ready?” He nodded unsurely hoping that she wouldn’t catch on.

“The area that we’re standing in is the front desk which will require a membership to make it past this area. Once we open I'll have security right where you're standing, that way I won't have anyone slipping up past the front desk if they don't belong here."

The entry was made to look as normal as possible to outsiders. The walls were simple with white and black tiles for the flooring and a few chairs that decorated the waiting room. It made this area seem modern while keeping the rest of the building discreet from the public eye. The actual entry to the club seemed to be blocked by red curtains with a rope as the barricade, even though it was placed there the rope was pinned back to the pole and his curiosity was getting the best of him.

He was itching to know what was behind those curtains.

She looked over at him and saw that his eyes were gleaming with pure curiosity. How cute, she thought and placed her hand on his shoulder, "Would you like to enter and see for yourself?", he looked over at her and wasn't sure about what to say.

"Uh..y-yeah."

she extended her hand for him and he grabbed it reluctantly but still let her lead the way. The curtain that blocked the view had more red velvet curtains that decorated the hallway, he was amazed at the vibrant color and the hallway.

He sure wasn't expecting this behind that curtain.

It seemed like a never-ending corridor but at last, they were standing by the entrance of the club. He noticed that there was a bar as well as some black and red tufted sofas that decorated the club, In front of those sofas there was a stage not too big but not small, and before he even asked his eyes drifted to what seemed a weirdly looking piece of furniture.

What was it? A bench? It kind of looked like a weird picnic table but it was too small and narrow to even be considered that. She noticed him staring in confusion and curiosity, he looked back at her, and before he could even say anything she smiled at him, “So you found the horse.” Her heels clicked and echoed through the empty room as she walked towards the furniture in front of the sofas and the stage itself. “A horse?” Hyunjin questioned, oddly confused.

“That my dear is what the furniture is called. A spanking horse to be exact, it’s precisely placed between the stage and the sofa for humiliation scenes for seasoned submissives and doms/dommes. As well for gatherings this space is mostly for humiliation scenes and entertainment in both the sexual and non-sexual aspects." Hyunjin didn't respond because he was still confused. He had heard of the humiliation kink from his quick research but was still new in every aspect how was the horse even used? It looked so uncomfortable.

"Would you like to see how it's used?" Hyunjin seemed to be unsure but curiosity got the best of him. "If you don't want to that's okay, I don't want you to think I'm forcing you." Hyunjin took a couple of steps toward the furniture observing it. "Is that a yes?" She asked trying to make sure he was comfortable. "Yes." He clarified.

"Let me help you." He stood unsure of how to get on the furniture before she guided his body towards it, kneeling in front of the padded leg and armrests. "That's how you get on and get off it is pretty easy the other thing is that sometimes people are restrained but I'm not going to do that." Hyunjin heard the echo of her heels walking walking off before coming back and standing in front of him. Hyunjin's eyes were fixated on her soft yet smooth legs, he lifted his neck looking up at her and his eyes widened at the long tool she held in her hands. "This is a crop." She smiled at him. "And this is for impact play, which can also include spanking," She said as she demonstrated against the palm of her hand making a loud crisp sound at the impact.

Hyunjin's eyes widen getting turned on by the sound. It didn't help that he was still bent over feeling the friction as his dick was pressed against the furniture making the feeling slightly worse than before, he tried his best to distract himself hoping that by the time he'd got up that he would no longer be turned on, "But I'm not going to do that to you, this is but a demonstration." She said interrupting his racing thoughts. "Would you like some help?" offering her hand out to hold onto as he tried to not fall over and lose his balance in the process. Hyunjin stood up making sure his back faced her to check if he was pitching an embarrassing tent, he silently sighed in relief turning around. "Should we continue?" "Uh..yes." God, why was he so awkward?

Hyunjin followed her, passing the bar and entering a new area. There was a hallway, four separate rooms, and one door at the end of the hallway that said “Personnel Only”, She stopped and Hyunjin was halted in his tracks before bumping into her. “This is the part where I make sure I have your consent to enter one of these rooms. The reason why I say this it’s because I don’t want you to think you're doing this against your will, even if it means I'm just giving you a tour of how my business works. I would like to make sure you’re comfortable and if you’re not you can always let me know, Please don’t hesitate. I will respect your decision.”

She told him as he stared at her in curiosity what did she mean by consent? He knew what consent meant but to enter a room? He wasn’t sure what to think so he just told her ‘yes’ and they walked towards a room. Upon entering it Hyunjins' brain short-circuited. The room had a red-theme with a dash of black and white accents on the bed and some furniture, The bed looked pretty normal but comparing it to the rest of the room it was the opposite. “This is one of the BDSM dungeons that will be used for scheduled sessions.” Dungeon? BDSM? Hyunjin looked completely lost until a wall rack with various tools that seemed more like accents got him out of his head. “Would you like me to enlighten you?”

Hyunjin's eyes glanced back at her only to respond with a nod. She smiled at him, it was so endearing how innocent he seemed and while he did know somewhat of kinks he probably wasn’t aware of the entire BDSM aspect. “Let me start by saying that this is one of our more tame rooms. I purposely brought you considering how you seem pretty new to all of this, I also don’t want to scare you away. So, what you’re seeing here doesn’t compare to our remaining three dungeons. I’d like to consider this a kink beginner-friendly dungeon for clients, Maybe in the future you’ll see the other rooms but that’ll be for another day.” Oh. It all made sense now but if this was a more tame room what do the other rooms look like?

Disclaimer: Please reblog and comment if you like my works. Feedback is so nice and appreciated!🖤✨ (It’s discouraging when fics have little to no reblogs 🙃)

#sub!idol #sub!skz #sub!hyunjin #ximes’ 💭#ximes’ inferno #domme!reader #sub!hwang hyunjin #sub!idol x reader #sub!idols #subby!september

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persephoneflowerpetals · 3 months

Text

'Til Death

Chapter 8: First Date

Chapter 7: Passing the Time

Chapter 9: The Exes (WIP)

Wake up, babes! We finally got chapter 8 of ‘Til Death! Lmao, but seriously I just wanted to apologize for the long wait. I really struggled trying to write some authentic and in-character dialogue for these two lol. Also life and work got in the way too, so yeah. But now I can really get to the “nitty gritty” parts of the story! I’m very excited to write for those next chapters coming up! Hopefully, those won’t take forever to write like this chapter lol! But anyways, please enjoy!

Persephone waited for the black smoke that surrounded them to dissipate before taking a look at her surroundings, wondering what this “perfect spot” that Hades was referring to would be like.

When the smoke finally cleared Persephone found herself by a river bank. The grass was a dark green color and the trees that stood nearby the river were sparsely covered with warm colored leaves. You could really tell it was autumn and that Persephone’s mother, Demeter, was busy at work. The rushing water in the river was practically crystal clear as it ran along various rocks and logs. Persephone could see fishes of various sizes swimming along the current to their unknown destination as well as the occasional autumn leaves being swept away by the current.

“Breathtaking, isn’t it? Not bad for the River Styx.” Hades remarked as he surveyed the area as well, his hands planted firmly on his hips.

Persephone looked at Hades with surprise. “Wait, this is the River Styx?” she asked in disbelief.

“Yup, the one and only aqua border and river route to the Underworld.“ Hades answered as he crossed his arms and smiled proudly while looking at the river.

“Huh, I never knew this was part of the River Styx. I thought it only consisted of souls of the dead.” said Persephone.

“It does in the Underworld, but outside the Underworld it’s just a plain old river and a pretty nice one at that if I do say so myself.” Hades replied.

Persephone smiled then looked around at the empty, grassy area they were in. “So, where’s this picnic you were talking about?” she asked as she raised her brow curiously.

Hades grinned as he snapped his fingers and suddenly an entire picnic, blanket included, appeared on the grass before them. The blanket was a dark blue color, contrasting greatly with the green grass around it. An array of delicious looking foods were scattered on one half of the blanket while the other half was empty, leaving room for the two gods to sit on it.

“Voila. A picnic for two.” Hades declared, presenting the set up to Persephone as if it were a work of art.

“Wow, you certainly went all out.” Persephone remarked as she went over to the blanket to sit on it.

Persephone observed the food laid out on the blanket as Hades sat next to her. The picnic looked more like a feast rather than a small lunch. There were lots of Grecian finger foods like tirokroketes, tzatziki with fresh baked pita bread and veggies, and tomatokeftedes. There were even foods she’s never even seen before like little triangle shaped pieces of bread with some sort of tomato sauce and cheese. Of course, Hades didn’t forget that Persephone had a bit of a sweet tooth, as there were many scrumptious desserts on the blanket as well like melomakarona, kourabiedes, and Persephone’s favorite, bougatsa. Sitting on the edge of the blanket were two black colored goblets that looked like they came straight out of the Underworld and a pitcher of nectar (which also looked similar to the goblets).

“What can I say? I like a little variety with my meals.” Hades replied with a cheeky smile and shrug. “Go ahead. Dig in.”

Persephone looked at him and smiled before helping herself to some of the mysterious foods on the blanket. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen some of these foods before. What is this stuff?” Persephone asked, picking up a cream filled treat covered in powdered sugar and chocolate chips.

“I figured you might like some Roman dishes. Those guys stink at naming gods, but they make some great food. Try it. It’s really good.” Hades answered as he poured some nectar from the pitcher into the goblets for each of them.

“Funny, you said the same thing about the worms. I’m surprised you didn’t bring any.” Persephone joked.

Hades smirked as he replied, “Uhh, as I recall you liked the worms, so don’t sound so skeptical. Anyways, I thought I’d be a little more classy by keeping bugs off the menu.”

Persephone giggled softly before taking a bite of the sweet looking pastry. Her eyes widened as her mouth formed a small smile. “Oh my gods, this is the best thing I’ve ever tasted! What’s it called?!” Persephone asked with delight after swallowing.

“Cannoli.” Hades answered with a grin before taking a sip of nectar. He found her excitement and wondrous delight in food to be adorable. The way her face lit up when she found something new to be truly delicious made Hades’ nonexistent heart skip a beat.

“Well, I think cannolis are my new favorite food!” Persephone giggled before taking another bite of the creamy pastry.

Hades chuckled softly as he looked at her with admiration. Gods, how could one goddess be so darn cute? The two sat in comfortable silence for a moment as they both snacked on food, the natural sounds of the nearby flora and fauna putting them at ease as they took in the beautiful view of their surroundings.

“So…we’re here. We’re eating. Didn’t you say you wanted to talk?” Persephone asked as she grabbed another piece of food from the blanket.

Oh, right. This was supposed to be a date. Though, Hades didn’t actually say it was a date, but this is what it was supposed to be and a date is supposed to involve talking and getting to know each other.

“Well, what do you wanna talk about?” Hades asked before taking a bite out of one of the tomatokeftedes.

Persephone paused for a moment, trying to think of a subject to discuss. She then looked at Hades with a sweet smile. “Could you tell me more about your mother? I like hearing you talk about her. It’s nice.”

Hades smiled fondly at the comment before taking a final bite of his food. “Heh, sheesh, where do I even start?”

“Does she have any hobbies besides watching over the cosmos?” Persephone asked.

“Oh, yeah. Believe it or not, my mom’s a total party animal. Seriously, I think she could out-party Bacchus!” Hades answered with a chuckle.

“Really?” asked Persephone in slight disbelief as she chuckled with him.

“Yeah, you’ve never been to a ‘Rhea party’ before?”

Persephone shook her head. “Well, next time my mom throws a party I’m takin’ you with me, babe. Let me tell ya, her parties are wild! I’m not joking, last party she threw she made her grand entrance by riding in on a lion! A lion! Can you believe that?!”

“Wow,” Persephone giggled. “When I asked about your mother’s hobbies, that's the last thing I expected to hear! I think I’d love to meet her one day. I can tell you really admire her by the way you talk about her.”

“What’s not to admire? She’s amazing! Besides, her parties are the only ones I can attend where I’m actually welcome…and invited.” Hades said as he took another sip of his glass of nectar. “So, I told you about my family. What about yours? What’s the deal with your dad? I’ve never heard anybody talk about him.”

“Oh, that’s because I don’t have one.” Persephone replied casually.

“Ah, I get it.” Hades said with a nod. “Deadbeat dad. Left for goat milk and never came back, right?”

“No, it’s nothing like that. I just literally don’t have a father. You really don’t know how my sister and I were born?” Persephone asked, surprised that this god who seemed to know everything about everything didn’t know how she was born.

“We’re both about the same age and we grew up in different parts of Greece, so besides reproduction, no. I have no idea how you were born. What? Did you pop out of your mother’s head or something?” Hades asked with a playful smirk.

Persephone laughed at his silly question. “No. Back when the titans were still running things my mom was busy using her powers trying to make the Earth a better place. More beautiful. Of course, that’s a little difficult when you have titans like Pyros and Lythos running around destroying everything in their path. So, safe to say, my mom had her work cut out for her and she didn’t think she’d have the time to find a husband and maintain a relationship, but she did really want kids, so she found a safe place somewhere in Attica and planted some sort of ‘magical sprout-let’. While it grew she watered it and gave it some sun, y’know, normal gardening stuff. Then, 9 months later, the sprout bloomed into a flower and here I am! Of course, the same process happened with my sister too, so the real reason why mortal parents tell their children babies come from ‘magical gardens’ is because of my mother.”

Hades smiled as she explained the story of her birth, listening to every word. “Huh, and here I thought it was because they didn’t wanna teach their kids about the birds and the bees at such a young age.”

Persephone laughed again at his comment. “Yeah, that too.” she replied.

“But seriously, why does that not surprise me in the slightest? You being born from a flower of all things.” Hades said.

“I know. The flowery spring goddess being born from a magical flower? What a shocker!” Persephone replied sarcastically as she smiled.

A sudden noise from nearby immediately interrupted the gods’ conversation. A mother duck and her ducklings had decided to hop onto dry land after swimming in the river. Persephone smiled as she watched the ducks shake the water off their feathers and waddle near the picnic blanket. She then manifested a bunch of seeds into her hand and offered them to the duck and her babies. The ducks eagerly ate the seeds in Persephone’s hand as Hades watched with a smile. He wasn’t really big on “cutesy stuff” like this (in fact, this sort of stuff kinda disgusted him), but when he looked at Persephone and how sweet she looked feeding those ducks, Hades just couldn’t help but smile. The goddess was so stinkin’ cute that even Hades wasn’t immune to her adorable charm.

One of the ducklings, struggling to find room around Persephone’s arm to eat some of the seeds, then wandered over to Hades after its failed attempts to reach her handful of seeds. Hades looked down to see the fluffy, yellow, little duckling chirping at him, as if it were asking him for some food.

“Uhh, no. Go away. Shoo. Food’s over there. Go on.” Hades said, trying to gently shoo the chirping duckling away from him as he looked at it with slight disgust.

Persephone lightly chuckled and placed some seeds on the blanket near the little duckling. The duckling turned around and saw the seeds, instantly going towards them to eat them as other ducklings started going over to the small pile of seeds.

Hades looked over at Persephone and just couldn’t stop smiling and staring at her. She was just so sweet and beautiful. He couldn’t not look at her. He was so distracted by her, in fact, that he didn’t even notice that some of the ducklings that had gathered nearby were starting to waddle on top of him and into his lap. It wasn’t until he heard the sound of many chirping ducklings that Hades actually looked down to see the baby ducks all spread onto his lap. Some were even trying to hop up to climb up his chiton.

Persephone giggled when she noticed Hades with the baby ducks in his lap and how confused he was by it. Hades looked over at her again when he heard her giggling.

“I think they like you.”

Hades raised his brow and smiled as he looked back down at the ducklings. “Well, it’s no wonder you little things are easy prey. You’re a poor judge of character.”

Persephone laughed at Hades’ witty comment before the mother duck that stood by the spring goddess started quacking at her babies. The ducklings then waddled away from Hades and straight to their mother, one little duck straggling behind the others after clumsily tumbling out of Hades’ lap. The gods then watched the family of ducks waddle off into the forest behind them.

Hades then picked up his goblet of nectar once again and took a sip. “So, there’s something I’ve been dying to ask you since the day you yelled at me.”

Persephone then looked over at Hades and smirked. “Oh? And what would that be?”

“You said you didn’t have a say in what role you’d get as a goddess, so what kind of role would you have picked if you had the chance? I’m genuinely curious.”

Persephone looked down in thought. “Huh, I guess I never really thought about it before. Well, I mean, I have thought about it, but just not…deeply...”

There was a short pause as Persephone thought about her answer. She then chuckled to herself, trying to think of something. “I dunno. There’s a lot of things I’d like to be goddess of.”

“Like?” Hades asked, wanting her to continue her thoughts.

“Like, Goddess of Beauty and Love. Aphrodite has an amazing role. She blesses mortals with beauty and helps them fall in love. I think that’s really sweet, but there’s always a down side to every role, y’know? Like, having to deal with mortals that fall out of love with each other or mortal women begging and pleading to be blessed with beauty.”

“Yeah, I guess you’ve got a point there.” Hades replied.

“But, I hope you don’t think I hate my role as a goddess because of what I said. I really do like being Goddess of Spring. It’s just…sometimes my family makes it hard for me to enjoy what I do…but, I dunno, at the same time I guess it would’ve been nice to have a say in what I get to do for the rest of eternity. Who knows? Maybe I could’ve been Goddess of the Underworld.”

Hades chuckled. “Goddess of the Underworld, huh? Alright, I see how it is. Are you vying for my job now?” he asked with a smirk.

“Nah, I was thinking maybe we could do a partnership. Like a ‘duo deity’ sort of thing.” Persephone replied with a playful smirk.

“Oh, a partnership. Well, you show a lot of promise, babe. I mean, you’re pretty good at organizing scrolls for me, so I could make something work. How about you send me your resume and I’ll beseech you with an offer at my earliest convenience, alright?” Hades jokingly suggested.

Persephone laughed as Hades joined her. “Alright, deal.”

There was another moment of silence as the two just sat there, enjoying each other’s company as they looked at the natural scenery before them.

Hades then turned to Persephone to speak. “Hey, uhh…you wanna…go for a walk along the river for a little bit?” he casually asked.

“Sure.” Persephone replied with a nod before getting up from the picnic blanket, wiping any dirt, grass, or crumbs from her chiton before making her way along the river bank.

Hades stood up as well, brushing himself off before snapping his fingers, causing the picnic to disappear in a cloud of black smoke. He then followed after Persephone to walk along with her.

The two gods spent the rest of their time just walking along the river and talking. They told stories, cracked jokes, shared their likes and dislikes. They had gotten so lost in conversation that it had already reached sunset and were now heading towards the end of the River Styx.

They spotted a wooden bridge across the river, the bridge that crossed the border between the entrance to the Underworld and the entrance to the mortal part of the Earth. They decided to stop on the bridge and watch Apollo slowly pull the sun across the sky.

Hades looked over at Persephone and smiled as he admired her. She was so gorgeous. The way her hot pink hair flowed in the breeze. That adorable little smile she almost always seemed to have on her face and how her amethyst colored eyes always sparkled. Hades was positively stunned by her beauty. Everything about her was truly perfect in every way. That honestly used to annoy him, but now it’s one of the many things he finds so attractive about her. It was so crazy how after getting to know her, his perception of Persephone really changed.

Hades then looked down to the water of the river rushing under the bridge, trying to decide whether he should finally make a move on Persephone. He didn’t want to ruin the moment by making her uncomfortable, but this was such a great opportunity to do something romantic. Anything romantic. But…what if she was getting mixed signals this entire time and thought this was some sort of friendly outing? What if she gets creeped out by his advances and leaves? He’s already come so far with her, especially with this impromptu date. He didn’t want to ruin things now, but…he couldn’t let this beautiful moment go to waste. Who knows when he’ll get another moment like this with her? Decisions, decisions…

Persephone looked over at Hades who seemed to be lost in thought. His face had a focused expression as he watched the water while he leaned on the railing of the bridge. Persephone smiled as she observed him. It amazed her how well she got along with him and how much they had in common with each other. She was honestly really glad she took the chance to actually get to know Hades. Not a lot of gods out there were willing to do that, but she was and it was certainly worth it.

The spring goddess continued to study Hades’ features as he looked at the water below. His gaunt face, his gray-blue skin, his fiery blue hair that always made cute little swirls when he walked around, the surprisingly well toned muscles on his arms. Hades really wasn’t that bad looking of a god. In fact, Persephone oddly found him to be quite handsome. She loved the way he laughed, the way he smiled at her when he gave her a genuine compliment, the way he took in every single word she said when she spoke to him as if it were the most important information he could ever retain.

That fluttery feeling started to come back to Persephone, like that night when Hades talked to her under the stars. It was like a bunch of butterflies were floating around in her tummy. She looked at Hades again and the feeling got stronger and stronger the more she thought about the things she admired about him…and then…it hit her. The sudden realization hit her like a tidal wave from Poseidon that this feeling she had been getting...it was love. She had fallen in love with Hades. She was in love with him this whole time and she never even knew it. Whenever they subtly flirted with each other, when they smiled at each other, when Hades showed genuine appreciation for each and every plant she made for him in Asphodel Meadows, whenever she blushed when he said something sweet to her. The signs were all there and she never saw them until now. This god that she once despised has now stolen her heart and she had no idea what to do.

A million questions and thoughts rushed through Persephone’s mind as she came to this sudden realization. She looked out and the sunset, once more. The sun was nearly gone from the horizon and it wouldn’t be long now before Artemis would shoot her arrow towards the sky to bring out the moon.

The pink goddess turned to Hades and took a shaky breath. She had no idea what she was doing right now. It seemed like she was doing whatever her body told her to do in that moment.

“Um…Hades?”

Persephone’s soft and somewhat shaky voice brought Hades out of his thoughts as he turned to her.

“Yeah?”

He now had her full attention as she nervously stroked a lock of her hot pink hair, looking down to avoid looking at Hades.

“I, um…I just….wanted…to tell you…...”

Persephone truly had no idea what she was doing right now, but for some reason she had this urgent need to tell Hades how she felt. She was terrified and excited all at the same time. She finally looked up at Hades and found him watching her with anticipation, waiting for what she had to say. It wasn’t until she looked into his glowing yellow eyes that the words slipped out of her mouth.

“….I love you.”

For a split second, Hades’ expression turned to one of surprise before Persephone quickly and suddenly placed her hands on his chest and kissed him. Little blue flowers started to bloom out of her hair when her lips met with his.

Hades’ eyes grew wide as his pupils dilated. His blue flame began to flare up as his body tensed. He wasn’t expecting her to kiss him, let alone tell him she loved him.

Persephone could feel Hades tense up and for a moment she considered stopping, worrying that she had just made a huge mistake, but then she felt Hades relax. This was exactly what Hades wanted from all this. He wanted her to fall for him and she obviously did, he just didn’t expect her to admit her feelings to him right then and there.

Hades melted into her kiss as he kissed her back, gently cupping her soft and rosy cheek. They then separated for air as they looked at each other again. Persephone’s face was flushed red like a strawberry and Hades could help, but smile. His sudden flare up was starting to die down as well as he gazed into Persephone’s eyes. He then noticed the little blue flowers in her hair and smirked as he picked one, studying it with a fond expression before looking back at her.

“Y’know, I think blue looks really good on you.”

Persephone smiled back at him and giggled as she then cuddled into the crook of his neck while she wrapped her arms around him. Hades dropped the little flower and wrapped his arms around Persephone as he rested his head atop hers.

Everything just felt so right, like they belonged in each other’s arms. They stood there on the bridge, holding each other close as the sun finally set and the moon appeared in the sky.

Persephone then looked up at him and smiled. Hades looked down at her with a soft smile and brushed a piece of hair away from her face. “How about we call it a night, huh?”

Persephone nodded as they separated before they both disappeared from the bridge in a burst of blue flames. The gods then reappeared in the Underworld, now holding hands as Hades walked Persephone back to her bedroom in comfortable silence. Neither god could stop smiling after that kiss. They were truly happy at that moment and they never wanted that feeling to go away.

When the two gods finally reached the doors to Persephone’s room, Persephone let go of Hades’ hand and walked over to said doors. She turned to him one last time, still feeling flustered from the kiss. “Thank you…for everything today. I had a wonderful time…and I hope we can do that again soon.”

Hades continued to smile as he looked at her with admiration. “Yeah, me too…g’night, Seph.”

Persephone stepped towards Hades and gave him another quick kiss as she cupped his cheek. “Goodnight, Hades.” she said before opening the doors to her room and going inside for the night.

Hades just stood there in front of her room for a moment. Staring at the doors in a lovesick daze before turning around to teleport himself to his throne room. Once there, Hades slowly and calmly took a deep breath.

“WHOOOO!!! YEAH!!! THAT’S WHAT I’M TALKIN’ ABOUT!!! I STILL GOT IT, BABY!!! YEAH!!!”

Meanwhile, as Persephone got herself ready for bed, she just couldn’t wipe the smile off of her face. She just had her first kiss! With Hades! She couldn’t believe it! After hundreds of years of being alone and single, Persephone finally found herself a boyfriend that she truly loved! Persephone went to sleep that night with the biggest smile on her face, knowing that she had finally found love with the one and only God of the Underworld...and oh, gods was her mother gonna flip when she finds out.

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cdelphiki · 3 months

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A Rock in a Weary Place excerpt

I haven't done a WIP Wednesday in forever. It's almost Wednesday so here we go. A Rock in a Weary Place is part two of my Clark-adopts-Billy AU and I am so excited about it. I've finally gotten some good work done on it, but since it's a long one-shot (I don't actually know how long, but I wouldn't be shocked if it exceeds 10k) it'll be a while before its done. So here's an excerpt!!!! Of course any and all of this can change between now and posting the final.

Clark felt… lost.

For as long as he’d been planning and scheming on how to get Billy Batson off the streets, he hadn’t fully realized what taking a kid into his home would fully entail.

Because, for all the talk about how he’d be more like a roommate to Billy… he also realized that he couldn’t be just a roommate.

He was the adult. He had to be— the adult. And Billy was the kid. Clark was providing for Billy, and that was that.

Which meant, Clark had to cook food.

A lot.

He’d never really cooked before, when it was just him. He ordered food, usually. Or just ate something microwavable. Ma would be upset, if she knew that.

But she didn’t know, so she couldn’t be upset.

If she found out he fed Billy, a “growing boy,” primarily greasy take out and cheap microwave dinners… Well Clark wasn’t sure he’d find a place on Earth safe from her wrath. And since he was Martha Kent’s son, he did know how to cook.

So that’s what he did.

A lot now.

Breakfast and dinner every day, and lunch on the weekends too. Although there had only been one weekend with Billy, so far. Five days in total.

How did five short days feel like an eternity?

“Smallville,” Lois nearly sang, “Yoohoo, hello? Is anyone home?”

Clark looked up from his laptop screen and smiled sheepishly at Lois, where she was leaning over his desk almost between him and his computer. He’d been zoning out a lot recently. “Sorry Lois,” he said, “what did you say?”

“What is up with you,” she exasperated, sitting back down into her chair, across their back-to-back desks from him, “you’re so…. distracted lately!”

“Oh nothing,” Clark said, as he leaned back in his chair, trying his best to give her his undivided attention, “just a lot on my mind.”

“Such as…” she prodded, leaning forward further into his personal space. When Clark didn’t reply other than to offer another sheepish smile, she let out an exasperated sigh and said, “Okay fine, I’ve got a new story for us. You won’t believe it, but there’s competition for Superman.”

“What?” Clark asked.

Lois grinned.“You know that guy from Fawcett? Captain Marvel? He’s been spotted in Metropolis this week.”

Clark resisted a laugh. He had known that, of course. “Really?” he asked anyway.

“Yes, and this morning, you’ll never believe it,” Lois said, as she went ahead and fully sat up on his desk, her arms moving all over the place as she spoke, “I was walking from the garage when this kid walked right out into the road without looking, and Captain Marvel swooped in and grabbed him before he got hit by a car. It was incredible! And I got to see Captain Marvel close up.”

“Did you now?” Clark asked with a grin.

“Yes, and let me tell you, he’s handsome. Superman has some real competition there.”

Clark… wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

Billy was just a child. A ten-year-old boy. But Clark couldn’t tell Lois that. How would Clark even know that?

He just hoped he never had to have that conversation with Billy, either. Adults shouldn’t be looking at him as if he were an adult.

But.

That was a concern, wasn’t it? Billy had said so himself. Sometimes he wasn’t a kid. Half the time, Billy was an adult. In form, at least.

They definitely would have to have a conversation, wouldn’t they?

Clark… Clark had no idea how to go about that.

“We should do some scouting this evening. Listen to the police scanner and see if we can catch Captain Marvel, just like we used to do with Superman, remember?”

He nodded absently. That had always been… interesting. Having to come up with excuse after excuse to slip away for a moment, all while Lois was trying her best to see Superman.

No matter how fun that had been, he couldn’t do that again. Because. He had to go home and feed Billy.

Also, Billy probably wouldn’t go out and about that time, anyway. He usually did his work during the daylight, and stayed in at night. Clark hadn’t seen him out at night much at all, not even before he came to live in Metropolis.

“Smallville,” Lois snapped, “Clark. Tonight. Scouting. What do you say?”

Clark looked back at her and tried to look regretful as he said, “I can’t, I’m sorry.”

“Can’t?” she exclaimed, scowling hard, “Why not?”

“I have plans,” he said simply.

Because he did. Feed the kid.

“Plans with who,” she demanded, “You haven’t been available all week!”

He spluttered and held his two hands up in surrender. “It’s not like that. I’m just busy. Besides, has Captain Marvel been seen after dark much anyway?”

Lois narrowed her eyes, but then sat back as she clearly thought it over, then muttered, “Hm. I wonder if he gets his strength from the sun or something.”

“Hey, maybe,” he said, as he pushed his chair back and stood up. He shut his laptop and slipped it into his bag before he grabbed his coat and said, “I’ve got to get going, but I’ll see you tomorrow. We can talk more about this new hero tomorrow.”

He felt mildly bad he’d blown her off three times already. He’d only had Billy for five days, and three of those days he’s had to blow Lois off.

They used to spend almost all day together, weekends to. Clark already missed that…

“Yeah, yeah,” Lois said, as she slid off his desk and returned to hers, “go do whatever. Tomorrow we’re scouting for Captain Marvel, Kent, don’t forget it.”

#I am basing Clark and Lois both off of the show Lois & Clark #also clark's parents #who are characters in the story #:D #i love that show #wip wednesday

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i-care-bout-things-too · 2 months

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👀 Tell me about an up and coming wip please!

❌ What's a trope you will never write?

🎶 Do you listen to music while you write? What song have you been playing on loop lately?

✨ Give you and your writing a compliment. Go on now. You know you deserve it. 😉

🛒 What are some common things you incorporate in your fics? Themes, feels, scenes, imagery, etc.

🎢 Which of your fics would you call your wildest ride?

🤡 What's a line, scene, or exchange you've written that made you laugh?

Love you babe!! I know the answer to some of these but 🫶

Wheezing so hard rn kitty cat you sent like 1/3 the list

Okay so—

👀: I started a Jon/Dami civilian au FOREVER ago, and it’s *this* close to being finished. I really can’t wait to post it because it’s a fun mix of fluffy and angsty (the latter is my specialty), where Jon/Dami have a very unusual first meeting when Damian walks into the veterinarians office Jon works at concussed, bleeding, and cuddling an inured raccoon.

“I am fine.” He says, resisting Jon’s attempts to be seated. He ignores Jon’s bewildered look as well and proffers up the raccoon he’s swaddled and had up to that point been practically cuddling. “Help him. I have grievously injured him and I am at fault.”

While admirable, Jon really wants to point out that he also looks pretty injured and also needs help. “Sir,” He replies calmly, even though this guy can’t be too much older than him. “You’re bleeding. I will help both of you, but we need to call 911 now and get your head checked. If I give you the phone and take the raccoon, could you describe the situation to an operator and explain what happened?”

To Jon’s horror, tears well up in the man’s green eyes. “You’re right. We should call the police, I need to be arrested for taking his life.”

❌: hmmm, now this is a bit of a hard one, I tend to write across a bunch of tropes and don’t really judge people for indulging in theirs… I genuinely can’t think of an answer, you’ll have to tell me something I forgot after I post this.

🎶: I’m always listening to music while I write. My music varies heavily month to months. I tend to find a new batch of songs and listen to them on loop while I write until it’s done or I get sick of them. As you know, I listened to Stranger by Thomas Day for the second chapter of the fic I gifted you, Rook, which is about very sad, angsty stuff centered around Tim and Damian. Click the fic name to end up on ao3!

✨: I actually love my own work sometimes, maybe not *always*, but there are fics I’m especially proud of. I’ll recommend (myself, yes!) Leave a Message, which is a civilian au fic about Damian celebrating his second Christmas ever, while really missing Dick who’s driving a taxi around Bludhaven unable to remember his family who’s waiting for him to come home. Trust me on this one, read it, I won’t let you down.

🛒: Damian running away. It’s a staple in a decent number of my fics, possibly because he does it A LOT in canon too. If I counted the number of fics where Damian was running away from his family or his problems, I think I’d be counting a majority of my fics.

🎢: This…okay look, I’m answering these like I’ve only ever written Batfam fic, which isn’t true, but we’re going to pretend it is to persevere some of my dignity. ANYWAY, definitely going to point a finger at Unimportant and Like We Were Then. Unimportant has spiralled beyond my control, and there are characters and things going on in it that I wasn’t planning for or expecting. Meanwhile, LWWT went from a 5+1 to a 33k word monstrosity with a plot that wasn’t planned either, but I’m actually quite proud of. Hoping to get the epilogue up soon ♥️

🤡: Basically the entirety of I Think I Have A Ghost in which Jason can’t remember his time in the league, and there’s a small child sized wraith who’s been following him around for weeks. These things are not unrelated. I’m proud of both works in the series, but particularly:

He drops a bag of tea in each mug, sits on one of a few stools around the kitchen island, and slides one of the mugs across the table to the side opposite of him.

He waits for the presence to decide what it wants to do.

“It’s going to over steep.” He tries.

It shouldn’t work. What ghost drinks tea?

Apparently, his.

The kid, because it really is an actual child, on silent feet, steps through the doorway to the kitchen and scales the stool in front of the steeping tea. All of this is done without a sound or any indication that this whole situation is really bizarre.

Jason raises a brow at the kid, and takes a sip of his tea. The kid copies the motion, only making the slightest face of distaste.

So not only is he not a ghost, Jason decides, he’s a posh not-a-ghost.

“Cool.” Jason says. “Wanna explain whatever this—” He motions between them, “—Is, kid?

The kid takes a longer sip.

Okay then.

Thank you for asking all these, Kat ♥️

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jerzwriter · 9 months

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A Moment in Time... (Carolina's POV)

We don't know the ending to Crimes of Passion 2 yet, but I'm feeling angsty...

Book: Crimes of Passion 2 Pairing: M!Trystan Thorne x F!MC (Carolina Rose) Rating: Teen Category: AU / Angst Words: 3,500 Summary: What happens when you find the person you're destined to love forever, but you're forced to do it apart? Trystan & Carolina had a special love from the start, but when they couldn't find a way to bridge their two worlds, they were forced to go their separate ways. Two years have passed, and while Trystan will always have a piece of her heart, Carolina has found a way to move on. But when news from Drakovia brings everything crashing back to the surface, she's forced to relive the pain of losing him again - and this time - is it for good?

A/N: This will be two parts: this one is from Carolina's point of view, and the second part will be from Trystan's. Participating in @choicesmonthlychallenge - Past WIPS May 2023 - Breakup.

Tommy anxiously wiped the bar down for what felt like the hundredth time. It always upset him when business was slow on a Friday night, and he was ready to grumble about it when he caught a glimpse of Carolina sitting at the other end of the bar. Hunched over, with a dozen folders stacked around her, scribbling furiously in a weathered notebook, it took him back to another time. Perhaps things being slow wasn’t so bad, at least not tonight.

Carolina hadn't wilfully created a scene from the past, but Tommy adding to it was quite intentional. Filling a tall glass with crushed ice, he mixed one of Carolina’s old favorites and then placed the beverage before her. Absorbed in her work, she didn’t notice the caramel-colored concoction until her uncle was practically hovering over her. Then, she gazed up with the slightest smile, warming her uncle's heart.

“What’s this?” she asked.

“A cherry Coke. What else?”

“You haven’t made me a cherry Coke since I was sixteen.”

“Well, you haven’t asked for one,” he grinned. “But looking at you now... you look like the young girl who used to do her homework sitting right here. You were every bit as focused on your studies back then as you are on your work now.”

“Yeah,” she scoffed, shutting her notebook and resting on her elbows. “All that hard work led me to great success. I still live upstairs from your bar.”

“Well, New York is ridiculously expensive!” He smiled. “Besides, Carolina, a person is successful if they are doing what they love and their life has meaning. You have both of those things.”

“I know,” she whispered.

He gently squeezed his niece’s hand as they exchanged a knowing look. Looking for a diversion, Carolina lifted the sugary drink to her lips.

“I probably don’t tell you this enough, sobrina, but I’m so proud of you.”

Despite her sadness, her smile morphed into the real thing. “Te amo, tio.”

“Yo tambien te amo.”

The bells affixed to the front door jingled, welcoming Luke to the Drunk Tank. He sauntered over and sat beside his friend.

“I feel like I’m interrupting a moment,” he jested.

“That’s because you are,” Carolina confirmed.

“But don’t worry,” Tommy grinned, filling another glass with ice. “I’ve got plenty for you, too.”

“What is it?” Luke asked, his face crumpling as the sugary liquid coated his tongue.

“It’s a cherry Coke. And not the canned crap! This is the old-school fountain-made variety. My uncle makes it better than anyone.”

“What are we, sixteen?”

“No wonder you two are friends!” Tommy laughed.

Luke watched Tommy walk away to greet a newly arrived customer to ensure he and Carolina were alone before he brought up the topic he had been dreading.

“So, uh...," he nervously rubbed the back of his neck. "Are you doing all right? Seriously?”

The look of annoyance in Carolina's eyes was swift.

“I’m doing the same as I was two hours ago when we left the office. I was fine then, and I’m fine now.”

“OK,” he raised his hands in surrender. “I had to ask because you’re my friend, I care about you. Also...”

“... Ruby told you to.”

“She may have mentioned it,” he snickered, lifting his ringing phone from his pocket. “Speaking of Ruby...”

“Go, go,” Carolina waved him away. “Take the call and tell her I said hello.”

“Are you sure?”

Her patience tried, she shoved him from his stool. "GO!"

She shook her head with amusement as she watched him retreat to a quiet corner. She knew he meant well, so did Ruby, Mafalda, and Tommy... but none of them understood; fussing over her only made things worse.

“I knew I should have gone away this weekend,” she mumbled, massaging her sore temples with a wince.

Her headache wasn’t going away anytime soon. But seeing Luke grinning like a lovesick fool helped more than any painkiller ever could. She'd never get used to the way her curmudgeonly friend’s face still lit up when he spoke to her, even as they were approaching their second anniversary. She let out a shuddering breath... it would have been her second anniversary with Trystan, too, if...

No! She couldn’t allow her mind to go there. Nervously shuffling her papers, she returned to her work. Focus! She was not going to do this. She had come too far... she was doing too well. These days, most of her smiles were even real. There was no way she was allowing the next few days to undo the hard-earned progress she'd made. The past was in the past, and she was living in the present... exactly where she chose to be. She had her career, her friends, and her family... she had a wonderful life in New York, and that’s what mattered. This was her life, her real life and that didn't include runaway princes and would-be-kings... at least, not anymore.

The television had been humming along in the background all night, no more than soothing background noise, no one paid it any mind, Carolina least of all. But life had a way of bringing the things we hide from to the surface, and two sentences caught her attention.

Sticks and stones could break bones, but the old saying was wrong, words could absolutely ruin us. And the reporter's words were like knives, cutting through the ambient chatter as smoothly as a knife cuts through butter until they landed squarely in Carolina's heart.

She knew she should turn away. Walk across the room and grab a table with Luke. Retire to her bed for the evening. Anything but stand there and listen. But the trap had been set, a reporter bedecked in feather fascinator the bait. Her breath hitched, and the world went still.

“The crowds are already lining up for Sunday’s big event! People are willing to sleep in the street for two nights just to catch a glimpse of their king and his soon-to-be queen....”

Carolina could hear her breath, deep, slow, and measured. She could control that, unlike her rapidly beating heart. She had carefully avoided the coverage. Even as every reporter in the city vied for her comments. She and Trystan had become a media sensation after resolving the Hand of Mahra murders, and as his wedding approached, the public's curiosity was piqued.

She had become adept at sneaking in and out of side entrances and wearing her hood at the perfect angle to avoid recognition. Still, some managed to capture her, and she didn't know how many more plastered smiles she could offer when she said she wished him well. In recent days, she resorted to a terse, “No comment.” But that backfired horribly. The next day’s New York Post headline read: “Jilted Detective Bitter Over Ex-Partners Regal Fiance.” And now she found herself transfixed, still trying to comprehend how it could be. He was once her everything, and she was his; they'd live in each other's hearts forever. But today, she was just one of the nameless, faceless millions tuning in to watch the pageantry unfold.

The reporter described the gilded carriage that would deliver Trystan to the cathedral and the delicate ivory roses his bride had selected for her bouquet. The guest list read like a who’s who of dignitaries from around the world... a list on which her name would never appear. Still, the more she saw, the more she was assured that she had made the right choice. That was a life she could never live.

“... while the details of Princess Jia’s gown are as closely guarded as a state secret, we have been told that it will be an eggshell silk creation made by none other than the groom’s sister, fashion designer Marguerite Thorne.”

Carolina lurched forward; the knife in her heart retreated and plunged into her once more, and she was now mortally wounded.

“.... that’s all for now, but don’t forget to tune in tomorrow! We won’t be leaving Drakovia until the wedding is over on Sunday! Now, back to you, Phil.”

With a loud click, the TV went dark, and she felt her uncle's presence behind her.

“Lo siento, mi nina; I should have changed the channel sooner.”

“It’s OK,” she shrugged. “It’s unavoidable. At least they didn’t mention his storied past in New York.”

“Why would they,” Luke sniffed, returning to her side. “His family wants to sweep that unfortunate chapter of his life under the rug like it never happened.”

“Yeah,” Carolina chuckled ruefully. “Unfortunately... it’s unforgettable for some of us.”

“Carolina,” Tommy muttered.

He reached for her hand, but she successfully dodged his touch. Pushing back from the bar, she announced she was heading to her room.

“Why don’t you let me....” Luke started, but he was quickly cut off.

“I’m going to my room... alone!”

“All right, but Ruby will be here shortly. Can I send her up when she arrives?”

Riddled with guilt, her face fell. Snapping at her loved ones, who were only trying to help her, wasn't something she liked to do, but they didn't understand how desperately she needed to escape.

“Just... just let me be for a little bit... can we do that? Please.”

“Of course,” Tommy asserted, his eyes landing on Luke's with a stern gaze. “But only if you promise to call us if you need us. We’re here for you.”

“I promise,” she replied with a melancholy smile, then she rushed up the stairs.

She was out of breath before she reached the first landing, even though she jogged five miles every day. It wasn't her body that was failing her, but her heart her mind who wouldn't set her free. It was two years ago, she reminded herself, and they didn’t come to their decision lightly. It was the best outcome, given the cards they were dealt. Trystan felt an obligation to his people and couldn’t leave; her life was in New York, and she couldn’t stay. A nation looked to him as a beacon of hope for the future, but with each day that passed, Carolina felt hers fading. Suffocating in a place that could never be her home.

The final word arrived the night of Trystan's coronation, and in many ways, she could have considered it a gift. After all, it gave her an easy out. Still, they wounded her soul, and even as they were spoken, she knew they were inflicting a pain from which she'd never recover.

“I tried,” King Father Maksim said gravely. “The session lasted into the early morning hours, but I was the only one backing the measure to change the Constitution. The future queen must be another royal or, at minimum, a Drakovian aristocrat. There is no way that....”

“That’s bullshit!” Trystan spat, his face twisted with rage, eyes glistening with tears. “I'm the king! I'm the goddamn king! I'll change it!”

“Son. It isn't that simple. You'll come to understand that the monarchy is more than just one man, more than any one person. We exist at the will of the people; we exist because of the traditions that are in place. If those ideals are eradicated, in time, so too will we.”

“Then let it be! If the monarchy is too weak to withstand the pressure of its king marrying the woman he loves, then it doesn’t deserve to stand.”

“Trystan,” his father sighed sympathetically. “I, of all people, understand.” He turned his attention to Carolina. “It’s nothing against you personally, dear. And you can remain here; no one would bat an eye. I spoke with Eveline, and she’d be delighted to speak with you. You and Trystan can still share a loving, happy....”

“No!” Carolina barked. “Absolutely not. No disrespect to you or Eveline, I understand you have your way of life, but I have mine, and I will never allow myself to be relegated to living in the shadows.”

Trystan’s eyes locked on hers, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. “And I love you too much to ever ask you to do so."

Maksim stepped back and cautiously moved toward the door. “Then, it appears you have a decision to make,” he smiled. “I hope you’ll both choose wisely.”

She reached her bedroom and opened the window, hoping the cool evening air would quell the anxiety rising in her chest, but asking the night air to cure a broken heart was a tall order. She collapsed on her bed, clutching her pillow tightly against her chest. Time, she had been told, time would heal all wounds. Perhaps two years wasn't long enough? But as her eyes screwed shut and a single tear rolled down her cheek, she knew. Two years or two hundred, nothing would ever change. She’d have to make a place for the pain, the same way she had when she lost her father years before. It wouldn't be as raw in time, but any wound that cut this deep would still fester each time it was touched.

She could almost feel the gentle mist that fell on the cobblestone terrace. Drakvoia was always so cold and damp, but that night, it numbed her to her bones. The butler had just left her room with her luggage in tow, and a town car was waiting to whisk her to the airport. She wondered if Viktoria and the other Thornes, save two, had already popped the bubbly. An unwelcomed guest who had long outlived her stay. She was an impediment to using Trystan for their own whims, and they were as delighted to see her go as she would be leaving... if only he were by her side.

She knew she had already seen him for the last time. He had been conspicuously absent all day. Their discussions leading up to their decision were long and painful; riddled with anger at the situation, they managed to turn on each other. It was too cruel, too twisted. Fate couldn’t give you something this beautiful, this precious, only to rip it away... could it? They already knew that answer, as they had lived it before.

Resigned to accept that they weren’t exempt from having their heart destroyed a second time, their anger morphed into sorrow. Their pain into grief. They crumpled to the marble floor together, clinging to each other until they had no more tears to spare. Then Trystan lifted her and carried her to his bed to be together one last time. They prayed for time to stand still, but to their great dismay, it carried on. When the morning arrived, Carolina woke up alone, a note she would keep for the rest of time tacked to the pillow where Trystan's head had rested just hours before.

My dearest Carolina, I hope you’ll forgive me and not think of me as a coward, but I can’t bear to say goodbye. I want us to live with last night as our final memory of each other. One final, precious night when I was yours, and you were mine. Fate has been wicked to us, but please know, as I walk through this life, forever longing for your touch, my heartache will be consoled by one thing and one thing alone, knowing that despite our forced separation, I will always be yours. I hope, in some small way, you will always be mine as well. Please remember me, Carolina. For I will never forget you. Yours forever, Trystan.

Tears streamed down her face as the mist turned to rain, but she wiped them off before returning inside. She was not walking out of this cursed palace letting them know they had broken her. She could save the breakdown for the plane or when she was back in New York. When she was back in the arms of her family and friends who would help her glue her broken pieces back together, but the Thornes... she would never give them the satisfaction.

Marguerite was waiting for her when she stepped outside her bedroom door. They exchanged sad smiles before Marguerite pulled her into a warm embrace.

“You’re better than them,” she whispered. “I’m so proud of you for staying strong. Don’t let them see how much they’ve hurt you.”

“I won’t,” Carolina’s voice cracked.

Then, her dear friend accompanied her as she descended the grand staircase one last time. Carolina flatly ignored the few siblings who stood in dark corners. They hadn’t come to bid her farewell but to snicker and ensure her place in their family's history was done. She didn’t offer them the dignity of an acknowledgment as she exited through the castle doors.

Once outside, Carolina tugged at Marguerite’s wrist. “I’ve got it from here, Mags. I need to do this alone.”

“If you’re sure,” Marguerite began. “But I’m calling you the moment I’m back in New York. You’re not getting rid of me so easily.”

Carolina smiled politely, she didn't know if she could keep someone who reminded her so much of her lost love in her life. But her heart couldn't handle another goodbye.

“Yes,” she swallowed. “When you’re back in New York...”

Marguerite diverted her eyes, looking all around the now-dark entranceway. “I can’t believe he’s not here!”

“No!” Carolina interrupted. “No, Mags, it’s too hard for him... and for me... I’ll be... We’ll be fine. Somehow, we’ll be fine.”

The two women embraced for a long while, then Carolina turned and walked to the waiting car. With each step she took, her composure began to crumble. Blinded by tears, her body began to tremble. Just a few more steps, she coaxed herself, just a few more steps. Her hand was on the handle of the door when...

“Carolina!” Trystan’s voice echoed as he rushed down the stairs.

“Trystan?”

He took her face in his hands as he approached her, lovingly brushing her wet tendrils from her face.

“I had to... I had to see you one last time,” he cried. “I’m so sorry....”

“No,” Carolina choked, biting her lower lip in a feeble attempt to stop her tears. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Trystan. This isn’t... it’s neither of our faults.”

“I love you, Carolina Rose,” he said earnestly. “I swear I have loved you from the moment I laid eyes on you, and I will love you until the day I die.”

“And I love you,” she wept as they sealed the moment with a kiss. It wasn’t an ordinary kiss; it was wrapped with a love and an ache few would ever know. It wove a world of yesterdays, today, and a world of tomorrows that would never come to be into one precious moment. A solitary kiss that would need to sustain them for the rest of time.

Mustering up every ounce of strength within her, Carolina pulled back, her hand caressing Trytan’s moonlit face for one last time.

“Goodbye, Trystan,” she whispered as she jumped into the car. “Drive!” she ordered. “DRIVE NOW!”

She wasn’t as strong as she appeared, and if she had stayed another second, she knew she would have crumbled. She would have done something stupid - agreed to anything if it would keep him in her life, even if she knew it would destroy her in the end. The driver followed her orders, but as the car rolled toward the exit gates, Carolina turned back once more, only to find a bereft Trystan standing in the rain, watching everything that had given his life meaning disappear into the night, taking her back to a place that was no longer his home.

Since that night, Trystan reached out to Carolina only once. Unable to imagine a life without her presence, he hoped they attempt to be friends. Carolina politely declined, telling him that perhaps one day, as soon as she fell out of love with him. It would be far too painful now. But as the days marched on, he realized she would never call, for falling out of love with each other was never an option.

And now... he was getting married. The palace’s public relations team wove together a fairy tale that most of the world had fallen for. It was so convincing that even Carolina occasionally wondered if it was true. Perhaps he moved on, and Jia was real love. But it only took one glimpse of Trystan on TV tonight to erase all doubt.

“My Trystan,” she sobbed into her pillow.

It was so unfair. Both forced to serve life sentences for crimes they did not commit.

Hours passed, and Carolina cried all the tears she had to give. Convinced that wallowing in self-pity had to end, she texted her friends and let them know she was doing better. She could order a pizza and some ice cream; maybe she’d be all right with one person joining her. She called Ruby and asked if she would spend the night, and she agreed at once. She was already halfway home but insisted she’d turn around and wouldn’t take no for an answer.

Caroline dragged herself into the bathroom washed her face and put on her softest, flannel pajamas... the ones she saved for when self-care was not an option. Her hands shook as she sipped a cup of chamomile tea, eagerly waiting for Ruby's arrival. She knew she’d be all right. She had no idea when or even how, but she knew she’d feel better one day. She had to, it couldn't always feel like this.

Several minutes passed and, lost in thought, Carolina was startled by a knock on her door. Wiping her eyes, she jumped to her feet, eager to fall into Ruby's warm embrace. She pulled the door open.

“Wow, that was fast!” she exclaimed, then the world did what she had hoped for that night back in Drakovia... it stopped on its axis, and all time stood still. “It’s... it’s you.”

Yeah... I left you hanging there. :) I hope you enjoyed it!

@choicesficwriterscreations @choicesbookclub

Tagging separately.

Part Two: Trystan's POV

#choices fanfic #crimes of passion #crimes of passion 2 #trystan thorne #trystan thorne x f!mc #choices the stories you play #playchoices #playchoices fanfic #cfwc fics of the week

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shuadotcom · 1 year

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Crush on You | HJS

❄ Summary: Joshua hates the idea of you being all alone for winter break so he wants to surprise you.

❄ Pairing: Joshua x GN!Reader

❄ Genres & AUs: Fluff, friends to lovers au, college au

❄ Rating: PG

❄ Warnings: None just Joshua being the sweetest

❄ Words: 3.3k

❄ Note: First fic of 2023! Big thank you to @toikiii for reading this over for me! This is an old fic of mine that I’ve been meaning to get around to rewriting when I was feeling especially soft. My brain simply would not rest and I literally couldn’t work on any other wip until I got some of these Joshua feelings out. The swiftness at which he shot up my bias list since last year is unfair because I didn’t ask to be this down bad for him, yet here I am.

I told myself I’d start working on my Seventeen wips in the new year and here we are - soft hours for Joshua are open forever!

Being broke during winter break sucks. Being broke during winter break and alone sucks even more. Being broke during winter break and being alone and being in a whole different country sucks the most.

You plan on buying your plane ticket to go home for the break early on. You tell yourself over and over again that you’re going to get it months ahead of time. Of course what you plan and what actually happens are two different things.

September is when you’re going to get the round-trip ticket. If you get it out of the way three months in advance, you won’t have to worry about doing anything last minute or having to pay more as the day grows closer. You have the money in your account and as soon as you finish your homework for the week, you’ll sit down, get the ticket, and plan the trip.

Unfortunately, you make the fatal mistake of allowing all of your friends to squeeze into your dorm room to celebrate the coming weekend. Thanks to the half-full bottle of soju that spilled all over your laptop, you learn two things that day; one is to never let a group of college boys drink excessive amounts of alcohol in your dorm room. The second thing is to never let a drunk Kwon Soonyoung anywhere near your expensive things ever again. Ever.

October rolls around and after buying a new computer and making sure Soonyoung knows that he’s indebted to you for basically the rest of his life, you’re back to saving up again. That’s short-lived though when you leave your backpack, which just so happens to have most of your textbooks in it, on the train.

This time you mostly blame Seungkwan. There’s a new restaurant opening in Gangnam that he really wants to try and everyone else is either busy or doesn’t want to go. He has to bribe you with a free meal, but you ultimately agree.

The problem is, he gets so caught up in trying things and gushing over the food that you miss your train back to campus, meaning you’ll likely be late for curfew. He pays the bill and the two of you sprint to the train to catch the next one. Once you reach your stop, you have to push through the abnormally crowded train passengers to get out, and in the process, your backpack is forgotten on the seat you and Seungkwan shared and you don’t realize that your bag isn’t slung over either of your shoulders until the train is long gone. While, yes you blame the incident on your forgetfulness, Seungkwan had told you that he'd carry your backpack and then didn’t so it’s still partially his fault.

November is your fault, which you can admit. Dragging along as many of your thirteen closest friends as will go with you to a SHINee pop-up shop in Busan means more planning and money than you account for. At the time all you have on your mind is getting your hands on as many limited edition fan items as possible, but once you’re faced with the double-digit number in your bank account, irresponsibility and guilt settle heavily on your shoulders.

December brings on tests and projects almost nonstop which barely leaves enough time for you to sleep and eat, so your mind is on school and school alone. You’ve seen the holiday decorations and heard plenty of people talking about the upcoming break, but your homework takes precedence over anything else.

After months of excuse after excuse, and you simply forgetting, here you are now; alone while all of your friends have already gone home for break, most of them only having to hop on a train to get there. Barely anyone is on campus at all and the few students that did stay back are unfamiliar to you so you choose the solitude of your own room for the next week.

Your family doesn’t have the funds to get you a ticket, so your financial irresponsibility is your problem and yours alone. Of course, your friends offer to pay for your ticket home, which when you decline, their next suggestion is to let you go home with one of them, but you turn them all down on that offer too. You want them to enjoy their time with their families and not have to worry about their foreign friend tagging awkwardly along.

You regret your decision just a little bit as you trek through the freshly fallen snow to the bus stop. The fact that the school's cafeteria would be closed with most of the staff gone, hadn't occurred to you either, which is why you found yourself in the small tteokbokki place about fifteen minutes away from school on New Year’s eve.

You’re in the middle of grumpily stuffing your face full of rice cakes when your phone rings on the table. After glancing at the contact name and photo, you quickly swallow the food in your mouth before swiping your finger across the screen to answer the phone.

“Yeah?”

“Is that any way to greet your lovely friend?” A chuckle comes through the line making you scoff while simultaneously trying to ignore your rapid heartbeat.

“You're Joshua, you don't count.”

“Are you saying if I was Jihoon or Jeonghan you would've answered nicer?!” He gasps in faux offense.

“I don't know, maybe. Neither of them has hit me in the face with a door you know,” you taunt, trying not to laugh. You’ll never let him live down the fact that your first time meeting was due to him accidentally smacking you in the face with the door to your shared math class.

“How long are you gonna keep bringing that up?! I said I was sorry!” Joshua lets out a deep sigh and you can practically hear him sulking over the phone. “Anyway, where are you?”

“Tteokbokki,” you simply answer, not needing to explain where since he’ll know “Why?”

“Go back to your room.”

“What?”

“I sent you something and you have to hurry back, like, now.”

“Bu-”

“I'm serious you have to go now. I’ll time you and if you aren't there in less than twenty minutes, I'm sending it back.”

“You can’t just unsend a mailed gift!”

The sound of the dial tone is his reply.

You usually aren’t one to listen to people demanding you to do things. You can admit to being pretty stubborn and petty at times and you can proudly say no if you didn't want to do something.

Well, unless the one telling you what to do was Joshua Hong.

You did a flawless job (in your opinion) of hiding the fact that you’ve, more or less, fallen for one of your best friends. All of your male friends were handsome and fun to be around, but there is something about Joshua that you can’t put your finger on, but it makes you feel so many things for him. His sweet smiles always make your heart practically beat out of your chest. His laughter makes you weak in the knees; the sound is like your favorite song. Anytime you sit close to him, you find yourself daydreaming of being more than friends, the urge to hold his hand always at the forefront of your mind.

Obviously, you haven’t told a single soul about this and you plan to keep it that way. The last thing you need is to disrupt the dynamic of your newfound family with a silly little crush, but you still can’t help the giddy feeling you get around him or the way that you tend to do nearly anything he asks of you.

Today is no expectation as you promptly stand up, throw away your trash, and beeline out of the restaurant and to the bus stop to go back to campus.

With your boots caked in snow, palms sweaty, and breathing labored from fast-walking to get here, you’re back at your building and rushing into your room. Upon stepping inside, you instantly note that it looks different than the way you left it.

Your walls, which are usually covered in posters, now have sparkly, silver stars hanging haphazardly around the room. There’s a string of blinking fairy lights hung up on the ceiling, a few feet above your head and there’s a candle burning that smells strongly of sugar cookies. Sitting on your desk is a small artificial Christmas tree complete with rainbow-blinking lights and a little gold star on the top. Your eyes only scan these things briefly before they land on the man sitting cross-legged in the middle of your bed. His phone is next to him, playing a soft R&B song that you can’t name, but it sounds nice. He’s wearing a red and white sweater and a glittery ‘Happy New Year’ headband. Joshua’s wide, bright smile completes the ensemble.

“Surprise!” Joshua bounces off your bed and throws his arms in the air.

You’re still standing in the doorway, unsure of what to even say. A jumble of things runs through your mind, but the only thing you manage to get out is, “How'd you even get those lights on the ceiling? You’re not that tall.”

Joshua throws his head back and laughs in response. “I show up here when I'm supposed to be at home and turn your room into what looks like the holidays threw up in it, and that's what you say to me?”

As if a switch is flipped, you snap out of your daze and kick your soggy shoes off, tossing your coat on the back of your desk chair and plopping down on the edge of your bed.

“Okay then, why are you not in California and how did you do this?” You try your best not to sound as giddy as you feel and ignore the somersaults your stomach is doing under your sweater.

“Well, as you know I did go home.”

“Yes, we all facetimed for Christmas I’m aware.”

“Don’t interrupt!” He playfully scolds, and it makes your face heat up. “As I was saying, I went home, but I was still thinking about you here alone and I just couldn’t stop imagining you sitting here with no one to celebrate any of the holidays with and I hated it. So, I bought a plane ticket and got back here this morning to surprise you. I actually didn’t know if you’d be in your room or not, but when I came by you were already gone so I let myself in and decided this was a better surprise than showing up with the decorations in my arms and making you put them up with me. Worked pretty well I'd say.” Joshua pats himself on the back and admires his work with a pleased grin.

“Okay… but why?”

“Why what?” Joshua sits on the bed next to you, your body going rigid. You try to create some distance between the two of you, the usual butterflies in your stomach going insane.

“Why did you go through the trouble of setting all of this up and leaving your family? During the holidays of all time.”

Joshua's face is suddenly serious as he turns towards you. “Because I know you. I know when you're unhappy, even when you try and hide it. You've been unhappy all month and I could tell. When you’re sad about something you get weirdly quiet all the time, whether you notice or not. You also get more agitated than usual and you stare off into space a lot.” He scoots closer to you ever so carefully. “We've known each other for two years so I've had plenty of time to pick up little things about you. I probably know more about you than you think.” Joshua shrugs and glances away from you. His tone has been casual, but you don’t miss the blush that spreads over his face.

“So… you ditched your family early to come back to school during break and spent your time and money on decorations for my room because you wanted me to not be unhappy?”

“Well, I mean you're my friend, obviously.” His face is still turned away from you, but the strain in his voice is noticeable. Seeing Joshua act so flustered gives you a boost of unexpected confidence, so you decide to see how far you can push this conversation. Admitting that you have a crush on him terrifies you to no end, but maybe you can gauge his feelings.

“But I'm also friends with Mingyu and Chan and they didn't go out of their way to do this for me.”

“Yeah, but they're not clever enough to think of doing this. And they're also nowhere near as nice as I am.”

“What about Wonwoo? He's pretty smart. And Seungcheol is actually the sweetest man I've ever met. If anyone would've planned all of this, it would've been him,” you say matter-of-factly.

Joshua finally turns to look at you then, clearly offended.

“What do you mean?! I’m very sweet! How about that time I brought you all of your homework and let you copy my lecture notes that whole week you were sick! And the time last year that I surprised you with EXID tickets for your birthday! And let us not forget all the food I’ve made and bought you when you have cravings! I’m so nice I don't know how you stand it! Seungcheol sucks." He puffs out his cheeks and crosses his arms, a pout forming on his perfect lips.

You have to turn your head and change the giggle you nearly let out into a cough.

“Well yeah, but Seungcheol always compliments me. He also makes sure that when he gets coffee for himself before our Tuesday morning class, that he brings me a caramel latte since he knows it’s my favorite. You've never brought me anything before our class.”

Joshua’s brown eyes stare into yours as you talk, his jaw clenching in annoyance, but you keep talking. “Oh! And he always holds doors open for me. Let's not forget what happened the last time you and a door were anywhere near me.”

“Not this again -” He groans out through gritted teeth.

“And, Seungcheol also makes sure any restaurants we go have plenty of nut-free options for my allergy and -” Joshua grabs your waist, tugging you forward and sending you falling against his chest. When you look up at him and your eyes meet, he hesitates for only a second before bringing his lips to meet yours.

He moves his hands up to cup your face and turns his head, aligning your lips at a better angle. Your fingers grip the front of his sweater, hands bunching up the fabric.

Kissing Joshua Hong is only something that you dream about and keep to yourself, but this moment, right now with him, is better than any scenario your brain has conjured up on its own.

The two of you lose track of time, nothing mattering except how soft Joshua’s lips are and how good he smells, and how warm his hands on you are.

It isn’t until you need to breathe do both of you pull back slowly, neither of you really wanting to do so. Once your eyes flutter open, they widen, the realization of what just happened hitting you. Joshua on the other hand looks much more relaxed - relieved even.

“I can’t believe you kissed me,” you breathe out, almost in a whisper, afraid that if you’re too loud you’ll wake up from what you’re still convinced may be a dream.

“I can’t believe you kissed me back.” The two of you share a quiet laugh.

“Is that why you came back to do all of this for me?”

Joshua gives you a look that very much feels like a non-verbal ‘duh!’ “I thought it was obvious honestly. I’ve wanted to kiss you since I first met you.”

“With my bloody nose and all, huh?”

His pretty face twists in agony at your teasing. “You’re going to make me apologize for the rest of my life about the door huh?”

“Yeah, probably.”

“Our kids are going to ask how we met and you’re going to tell them that their father nearly knocked you out and had to rush you to the campus infirmary and how for the rest of the day I stalked you around school to make sure you didn’t randomly pass out because I gave you brain damage.”

You chuckle at his dramatics, telling your heart to stop trying to leap out of your chest at the idea of kids and a future with Joshua. You’ve been more than friends for less than an hour at least - you have got to calm down.

“Oh, before I forget, no more talking about Seungcheol like that anymore, okay? And I'm going to tell him not to bring you lattes in the morning because I'm going to do it.”

“But your classes on Tuesdays don’t start until eleven.”

“Guess I'll just have to get up early and meet you then. I’m going to be nicer than Seungcheol can ever hope to be. You’re mine now so no one can be nicer to you than me.”

“Whatever you say, Shua.” You roll your eyes at him, fighting back a giddy smile.

“Good. Now that that's settled, let’s pack a bag for you.” Joshua hops off of the bed and drags your suitcase out from under your bed.

“What? Why?”

“You wouldn’t let me buy you a plane ticket back home, so you're coming home with me,” he says as he bounds over to your closet. Just as you open your mouth to object, he puts a hand up. “You're not going to spend the rest of the break here alone. I got a round-trip ticket for myself and one for you too. The flight leaves tomorrow morning, so we should get your stuff ready now.”

Crossing your arms, you watch him casually look through your clothes. “And what if I didn’t like you back? You didn’t even know that I felt the same way about you.”

He only shrugs. “Honestly? I didn’t plan that far ahead. I just wanted to get to you so you weren’t lonely anymore and I’d figure it out from there.” He emerges with an armful of your sweaters, beginning to neatly fold them and set them in your open suitcase. “But now I don’t have to vanish off the face of the planet due to embarrassment and a broken heart which is good because I told my parents I was bringing you back. My mom is super excited to meet you.”

The thought of going home with your friends was awkward to you which is why you turned everyone down. The thought of going home with your used-to-be-friend-who-is-now-your-boyfriend makes you just as nervous, if not more, but even so, you don’t object as you join Joshua in packing your things and set your bag by your door for the morning.

The two of you spend the rest of the night cuddling, something you never want to stop doing with him as long as you live. When the countdown to midnight starts, you watch on your laptop as a new station counts down and as soon as midnight hits, Joshua’s pulling you into another kiss, this one just as magical as the first.

Your lips are still tingling when he pulls away and rests his forehead against yours.

“Happy New Year, Y/n.”

“Happy New Year, Shua.”

Sleep comes next for both of you, Joshua mentioning that the flight is pretty early and that you need your rest before dealing with the chaos of the airport. He rambles a little as you fall asleep, going on about wanting to take you to all his favorite places back home. Just hearing the excitement in his voice helps you decide that maybe visiting his family wouldn't be so bad. Especially if he keeps kissing you the way he does and looking at you with those soft, sparkling eyes. Hell, if he asked you to fly to the moon with him right now, you’ll likely say yes without a second thought and not regret a single thing. Not as long as you’re with him.

#kvanity #joshua hong #joshua hong fic #joshua hong fanfic #joshua fic #joshua fanfic #joshua fluff #joshua hong fluff #joshua x reader #seventeen x reader #seventeen fic #seventeen fanfic #seventeen fluff #hong jisoo

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havendance · 10 months

Text

Robin III: Cry of the Huntsman

Right now, I am in the middle of both of my major wips and they’re both long and feel like they’re going on forever, so here is something fun and quick and wrote in between for the Helena Dick Roleswap AU. Enjoy.

—

Mob creeps were all the same, Dick thought. Didn’t matter whether they were Italian like Zucco had been or Russian like this latest set. They still chewed up all the innocent lives around them to make their profit. The Russians had killed a father for resisting, and then his daughter for witnessing. For them, it was just part of their twisted game. The least Dick could do was ruin it for them.

His shift at the bar came to an end and he walked back to his place, planning his next move. The presence of KGBeast complicated things.

There was a lamp on when he entered his apartment. Dick knew that it had been off when he’d left.

“Who’s there?” he called, reaching for the escrima he kept stashed near the door.

“It’s just me.”

Dick turned the corner to see that Robin was sitting in his armchair, fingers steepled in front of his face. He relaxed marginally. “What are you doing here?”

“You agreed to team up on this,” Robin pointed out.

“Yes, but that wasn’t an invitation to show up at my apartment. How’d you even know where I live anyway?” And, the more important question, since Dick wasn’t the Huntsman right now. “How did you know who I am?”

“I figured it out. It wasn’t that hard.”

All the effort Dick had put into keeping his identities separate, well the costume and mask at least, and the kid says it wasn’t that hard. It was honestly a little insulting. He sighed. “Mind elaborating?”

Robin suddenly looked shifty. “It’s not important.”

“Considering it’s my secret identity, I think it is.”

“Look, I’m sorry about breaking in. Next time I’ll just meet up with you somewhere else.”

“Robin.”

The kid had stopped his little steepled fingers thing and had started fidgeting with his cape instead. He wouldn’t meet Dick’s eye. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he said softly, almost a whisper.

That threw Dick for a loop. “What do you mean?”

“It’s just— I really don’t think you need to know.”

Don’t snap at the kid. You don’t want to scare him off. “I kind of think it’d hurt me more not knowing what holes in my security I’ve got.”

Robin kept fiddling with his cape. He looked up at Dick and then back down again quickly. Dick waited. Finally, the kid said: “Last night, that flip you did. There’s only ever four people who ever managed to pull off.” Dick felt himself freeze. The quad. He hadn’t thought about it, had needed the extra power. Robin kept talking. “Of those, two of them are dead and another’s in Russia.” He gave a little shrug. “Process of elimination.”

Dick remembered to breathe. “You’ve got pretty good eyes to catch that. What if it’d been a triple and you guessed wrong?”

Another pause. This time, when Robin spoke, he sounded almost apologetic. “My parents used to take me to the circus every year, when it was in Gotham. I know what it looks like.”

Oh. “Then, were you…?” It had been nearly three years ago now since Haley’s had last come to Gotham.

Robin looked away again. “I’m sorry.”

That was a yes then. This kid who’s name Dick didn’t even know had been there on one of the worst nights of his life. The one that he could never forget. The one that haunted his nightmares. Judging by the look on the kids face he didn’t have any problems remembering either. He suddenly looked very young. And hell, it had been nearly three years ago. “How old even were you?”

Robin bristled. “I wasn’t a baby. Look, don’t we have mobsters to take down?”

Right. The reason Robin was even here in the first place. Well it wasn’t like Dick wanted to talk about this topic any more either. He let the subject drop. “I’ve got a few leads,” he said. “Give me a minute ti suit up and we can head out.”

“I’ve got a couple too,” Robin said.

“Sounds like we’ve got our work cut out for us.” Dick shook off memories of the past as he walked into his room. He didn’t need any more ghosts haunting him tonight when he’d need his focus. Zucco was dead. He’s made sure of that. His parents could rest knowing that Justice had been done. With any luck, he’d be able to ensure the same for the family the Russians had killed. It was time for the Huntsman to work.

#tim drake #helena dick roleswap au #my fic #havendance writes #I also have something for a lonely place of dying but that still needs to be transferred to my computer #carthago delenda est #dc #bats + birds + affiliated #dick grayson #last of the flying graysons

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sitp-recs · 1 year

Note

i need a list of the most unhinged drarry fics you've read with wild premises or events pls and ty

What an interesting ask! I think my picks here are very subjective - I went for spooky vibes and plots that blew my mind in general - but now I think about it, all these are among my all-time favourite fics. I hope they work for you!

Basement Level 9 by @fw00shy (M, 2k)

Draco was behind the bomb that blew up Level 10, though they didn't talk about it.

Not Waving by @sweet-s0rr0w (M, 3k)

Draco and Harry have been together for a few weeks now, and everything's going swimmingly. Or is it?

The Other Cottage by @corvuscrowned (T, 6.5k)

If Pansy wasn’t shagging Ginny Weasley, Draco would never have been dragged to Luna’s ridiculous Halloween party in the first place - meaning he wouldn't be sitting in the corner of the room with Harry Potter all night.

Doppelganger by @writcraft (M, 7k)

It was just a silly dare, but one ill-advised trip into the Forbidden Forest changes Harry’s life forever.

A Cold Spot in Hell by @drarrytrash (E, 8k)

When there’s nothing left to burn, you have to set yourself on fire.

you look so fine by michi_thekiller (E, 16k)

In which Draco is a Veela and Harry is his mate. Dark!Humor or Crack!Horror, you decide.

The Good Guys by Frayach (E, 26k)

The Second Voldemort War is limping into its fourth year, and the Forces of Shining Light are slowly turning into the Forces of Expedient Grey.

In Our Blood by secretsalex (E, 38k)

Draco is an accomplished pure-blood curse breaker, and Harry is tasked with accompanying him on his latest job—cleaning up the Van Boer mansion, which has been under a devastating fertility curse for seven generations.

If an Injury Is to Be Inflicted by @shealwaysreads (E, 45k)

Harry Potter disappeared a year after the Battle of Hogwarts, and with him went all hope for true change in magical Britain.

Timecode by Rasborealis (M, 73k)

Harry Potter has been dead for two years, and Draco would laugh in the face of anyone claiming differently.

Super Rich Kids by @thusspoketrish (E, 81k)

Draco Malfoy has become disillusioned by the glitz and glamour of the scandalous lives of the Post-Second Wizarding War Pureblood Elite.

Yours is the Earth (Hold On, Hold On) by chickenlivesinpumpkin (E, 127k)

After a serious accident in the Forbidden Forest, Draco's personality begins to undergo subtle changes.

Forgive Those Who Trespass by Lomonaaeren (E, 135k) - this is the most unhinged Drarry I’ve read so far, pls mind the tags

Harry Potter was convinced he had an ordinary, if inconvenient, life. Then Ron and Hermione vanished in the Department of Mysteries.

At the End of All Things by @quicksilvermaid (E, WIP)

The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse are real and Harry starts dreaming of them.

In The Dark by @bixgirl1 (E, WIP)

In the aftermath of an apocalypse, Harry receives an order to find and bring Draco Malfoy nearly a thousand miles, to the tenuous safety of Hogwarts.

#asks #anon #drarry reclist #unhinged fics #aka brilliant fics!

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weepingfromacedartree · 10 months

Text

Surviving the AO3 Drought

Hi friends!

We're coming up on almost an entire day of AO3 being down. Since I'm sure most of you are like me and going insaneee with the blackout, I wanted to share this incredibly ROUGH draft of chap 1 of my current Polin WIP for anyone desperate for content.

A few warnings:

This fic is nowhere NEAR being done (emphasis on this being a ROUGH draft). It will most likely be a few months until I start posting the finished chapters.

This chapter (and the fic in general) deals with issues like grief and neglectful parenting, so TW for anyone who might not want to read about that.

Most of this chapter depicts Penelope and Colin as children. It was annoying to write. Might be annoying to read. I promise, they're teens/adults in all future chapters.

I do not condone children taking in stray cats and keeping them as pets. This fic is not meant to be a tutorial of any sort.

Ok if I didn't scare you off... please enjoy!!

Chapter 1: First Pet

Today: April 29th, 2023

Relationship Status: Dating (Semi-Secretly)

꙳

“Gregory just texted to ask if we’re dating. I didn’t think he had my number.”

“That little arsehole probably sent it to himself when he stole my phone.”

It’s Saturday. Penelope and Colin are sitting on the floor of his flat, a few containers of chinese food littered between them. It’s not a particularly unusual setting to find either one of them on a Saturday night. However, some things are different now.

Two weeks ago, they would not have been playing footsie. Not this shamelessly, at least.

“I assumed that Eloise’s ‘vow of secrecy’ would involve her immediately telling Benedict… And that Benedict would tell Anthony… And that Anthony would tell Kate… But I don’t know how the rumour managed to spread to Cambridge in…” She glances down to her phone again. “Six hours flat.”

“‘Rumour?’” he echos, a smirk on his face. “Surely, you’re not trying to keep this sordid love affair hidden from me as well.”

“‘Sordid?’ God, Colin. You make us sound so dirty.” She kicks his foot away, turning her attention back to the shrimp fried rice. “And I’m not trying to keep it from anyone. We both knew what would happen the second I told El.”

“Frankly, I’m surprised Greg didn’t text you sooner.”

Colin tries fixing his attention on the kung pao chicken in hand, but it unsurprisingly wanders.

“So… What are you gonna tell him?”

Penelope quirks an eyebrow, a look of uncertainty making a quick appearance on her face.

“Well… I was going to hold him in suspense a little while longer. Maybe take the ‘no comment’ approach at first. Then — I don’t know — the truth?”

“Which is?”

Colin watches as uncertainty turns to downright confusion.

“Yes?”

Internally, Penelope wonders if Colin is teasing, or if there has been a miscommunication of monumental proportions between them. The look on his face confounds her, though. Neither option seems to be the correct one.

“‘Dating’ is a bit too casual a word for us, I think.”

Penelope’s confusion fades away as a familiar tingling sensation lights up her stomach.

“It’s only been a week. What do you suggest we call —”

“We should get married.”

“What!?”

He’s teasing. He’s teasing. He’s —

“I said we should get married.”

Penelope waits for him to expand on this insane notion, but all she gets is that smug little smirk.

“Okay. Why?”

“Why does anyone get married?” Colin says matter-of-factly. “I love you. I wish to continue loving you forever and ever. Ergo, marriage.”

“This isn’t funny.”

“It wasn’t a joke.”

“It —”

“It was a proposal.”

“Colin.” She uses the sternest voice she can manage to muster up, which happens to be quite shrill at the moment.

“Pen.” At least he has the decency to drop that stupid smirk. He also drops his kung pao chicken, leaning forward to place a hand on her knee.

“Just, think about it for a moment. We didn’t meet a week ago, we just finally said the thing we should have told each other a decade ago — at least. I’ve been in love with you forever. ‘Dating’ you just feels like an unnecessary step to the rest of forever.”

Penelope feels at war with herself. At her core, she is sensible. Logical. Reasonable. She knows — objectively — that skipping straight from friendship to marriage is illogical and senseless.

But is it truly reasonless?

At her core, Penelope is also a romantic. A willing fool. An idealist against her better judgement. And in her heart, she holds twenty years worth of love for Colin. Would it really be so crazy —

Shaking her head ever so slightly, Penelope tentatively — regretfully — brushes his hand off her knee. At the loss of her touch, Colin’s lip juts out in a pout.

“People date for a reason. It’s an institution — it has a purpose. It’s like a test run for marriage. Different than friendship. Teaches you different things about a person — things that set you up for a successful lifetime together.”

“Friendship is not so different than dating. At least, not the way we did it.”

“Colin —”

“You’re right, Pen. Dating is like a trial period where you decide whether or not the person you love is suitable enough to spend the next lifetime beside. You —”

“Do I really sound that unromantic?” she interrupts. Something about hearing her words on his lips makes them sound so clear.

Colin laughs. “I think pragmatic is the word you’re looking for. But seriously, can you name a single thing you don’t know or feel unsure about me as a partner, after twenty years of friendship? What’s holding you back, Pen?”

Nothing. That’s the truth. There’s not a single thing about Colin that she feels unsure of. Not anymore.

But still… Even if there love has lasted decades, that sense of assuredness has only existed between them for a week. She’s spent more time wrestling on whether or not to cut bangs (and the answer always ends up being not).

Still…

“Let’s consult the experts.” His words break her from the daze Penelope hadn’t realised she fell into. In those few measly seconds, Colin’s eyes broke away from hers and has rested on the phone gripped in both of his hands.

“What are you doing?” she asks him. Her voice sounds far away.

Colin taps something on his phone, out of view from Penelope’s curious eyes. Then he clears his throat.

“Ten milestones every couple should celebrate before walking down the aisle,” he reads aloud. “Number One: Your First —”

“What are you doing?” Penelope asks again. This time, a laugh escapes her lips as she does so. Something about the seriousness on Colin’s face reminds her of the absolute absurdity of this situation. That it is a joke, even if it was intended as such.

“I know you think this is all very funny, but I’m being serious. I know you better than anyone else in the world — you know me better than I know myself! I have loved you more than half my life and spent so much time delaying the inevitable. Why waste any more of our time by ‘dating’ one another? It just seems silly.”

Colin stops ranting briefly, as if to allow Penelope to get her rebuttal in before he has the chance to make his point. When she stays silent, she can’t help but notice a hint of a smile crawl back up his otherwise serious face.

“And while I know the romantic in you is buzzing to say yes and run down to city hall right now, I know the realist in you needs some convincing.” He briefly holds up his phone to display the article he pulled up. “So we will go through this list, which details everything you need to accomplish during the dating stage of a relationship. If, at the end, we realise that we checked off every single to-do item while we were still just friends, we will make the reasonable decision to get married.”

If there’s one thing Charming Colin Bridgerton can do, it’s make a convincing argument. The realistic and romantic on each of Penelope’s shoulders suddenly go quiet.

“And where exactly did you find this scholarly article you are basing such a life-altering decision on?”

He looks down.

“TheMarriageExpert.blogspot.com”

“Colin!”

“They’re an expert, Pen!”

After her giggles finally let up, Penelope sighs. He has convinced her to play more tedious games before…

“Fine. You have yourself a deal, Bridgerton. What’s first on that list of yours?”

Finally, that serious expression on his face drops completely. He grins at her in that way that always makes Penelope’s heart skip a beat.

“Number One: Your First Pet As a Couple,” he reads aloud. “During the course of your marriage, you and your partner will come to share many things together. Finances, homes, memories, and a million other things you cannot even begin to fathom now. A pet will help you prepare for those shared responsibilities. It will teach you both about the importance of…”

As Colin continues reading, a frown pulls at the tips of Penelope’s lips. When he finishes, she attempts to cover her disappointment with a shallow laugh.

“Game over, I guess.”

His eyebrow arches. “Pardon?”

“We’ve never shared a pet, so…”

Colin’s mouth falls open. He pulls his free hand to his chest, underscoring the aghast look on his face.

“Pen… Did Mr. Whiskers mean nothing to you?”

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

Twenty Years Earlier: July 21st, 2003

Relationship Status: Sister’s Best Friend // Best Friend’s Brother

꙳

How did I get here again?

It’s Monday. The first real day of summer holiday. For most kids, that means the start of freedom. Six weeks of fun, followed by real life crashing down on them when the fall term begins. But for Penelope, it means the loss of structure. For six weeks, it is up to her to determine how — and more importantly, where — she spends her time.

She didn’t want to spend it at home. Not this morning, at least. So she went to Grosvenor Square.

At just eight years old, there aren’t many places Penelope can run off to unaccompanied. Even the Square, just two blocks away from her home, is hard to get away with. Her mum only allowed it because she was under the impression that Eloise would be joining her — that between Penelope’s sense and Eloise’s toughness, the two girls would be safe in the nearby park. But when Penelope ran across the street, she learned from Anthony that Eloise was not available for a morning stroll in the square.

She could have just gone back home, but she really, really didn’t want to. So she went to Grosvenor Square. Alone.

She was walking around the park, careful not to step on any cracks in the concrete. She moved to the grass when she realised that everyone was walking around her (even for an eight-year-old, her legs are rather short); she did not want to pull too much attention to herself and have someone question where her parents are.

She was listening. To the birds chirping. To the nearby traffic. Mostly, to the people.

Two teenagers were fighting. She was mad, he was sorry. She said something about him cheating, but after that, their shouts turned to whispers and Penelope couldn’t make out the rest. She wondered what type of exam he could have cheated on.

A little white dog barked at her. His owner looked apologetic.

A neighbour of hers walked past her, pushing a stroller. Penelope thought about hiding behind the nearest tree, certain that Mrs. Abernathy would notice her and say something. Thankfully though, the baby started crying and distracted her.

Just as Penelope was about to turn the corner and listen into the couple’s fight again, she had heard something different.

“Meow.”

She thought her mind was playing tricks on her, but when she walked over to the nearest bush to investigate, a two giant blue eyes stared back at her.

Oh, right.

Penelope looks down at the kitten currently sleeping in her arms.

He had white fur with little patches of black around his ears and nose. His whiskers were long — so long that they didn’t look like they were placed on the right cat. He was so small and scrawny — Penelope couldn’t tell if he was actually a kitten, or just a cat who spent too much time with too little food in his stomach.

Without a collar or any family in sight (she had spent over an hour looking for them), Penelope decided to take him home. She spent 20 minutes taking the 10-minute walk home. She slowed her steps. She took unnecessary turns and waited too long before crossing crosswalks. She held the kitten tightly to her chest, shielded slightly by the nest she made out of her yellow cardigan. She practised what she would say to her mum.

“Penelope. Anne. Featherington. Get that rodent out of my house!”

It had not gone well. Although, even before she landed back on the front steps of her home, Penelope had suspected that there was nothing she could say that could convince her mum to let them keep him.

She followed her mother’s instructions, fleeing from her house with the kitten in hand. Penelope didn’t have much of a plan once she hit the pavement outside, but like they so often do, she found her feet walking in the direction of the home across the street. But they stopped before they could reach it.

Ever since Mr. Bridgerton died last summer, Penelope’s mum had warned her about showing up at their house unannounced. There are eight fatherless children in that house now — the youngest of which never even got to meet her father. They have enough going on as it is.

They have enough going on as it is, she repeats again and again.

That’s how she got here. Sitting on the edge of the pavement outside the Bridgerton household, a cat sleeping soundly in her lap.

“It’s gonna be okay, buddy,” she tells him. She wonders if the kitten can sense the hesitance in her voice.

Silently, Penelope wonders what the right thing to do is. Where the right place to go is. The first place she thinks of is an animal shelter. Surely, that is the most logical place to bring a lost kitten to. They would know how to take care of him, how to find him a home with people who want him. The only problem is that Penelope does not know of any actual animal shelters in Mayfair.

The second place she thinks of is the fire station down the street. Firefighters save cats, don’t they? Or was that —

“Pen?”

Colin, her mind registers before she even has the chance to turn around. When she finally does, she attempts to smile, while also shielding the contraband from his view. Colin, in turn, throws her his usual smile — bright and true. The one that always manages to make Penelope’s stomach flip over inside herself. It does so now, even with the fresh sting of disappointment still welling up inside her.

“Oh, hi. Sorry, I didn’t mean to —”

“What’s that?” he asks, nodding to the kitten she clearly failed at hiding away from him. Before she has the chance to answer, he sits down beside her on the curb.

“I found him in Grosvenor Square. He was all alone and I didn’t know where else to go…” Her voice trails off, once again contemplating what a responsible person would do next in this situation.

“You gonna keep him?”

“No.” Disappointment is evident in her voice. “Mum won’t let me. She hates cats.”

Penelope takes her eyes off the kitten to look up at Colin. While only two years older that her, he stands nearly a head above her (he’s tall for his age — she’s short for her’s). Even sitting, she has to tilt her head up just to look him in the eyes. As usual, his brown mop of a haircut hangs so low that it covers his eyes somewhat, but Penelope can still see the blue-green colour peaking through. She’s always quite liked that colour.

Colin tilts towards her a few inches, then raises his hand to gently pet the kitten’s head. “I’d take him, but mum and Daph are both allergic.”

Penelope can feel her eyes go wide. Mr. Bridgerton was allergic to hornets…

“Not that kind of allergic,” he reassures her, seemingly reading her mind. “They won’t, like, die or anything. Their skin will just get all red and scratchy if he gets anywhere near them.”

“Oh — sorry. I should just go.” Pulling the kitten out of Colin’s grasp, Penelope stands. She starts to turn away from him, but is once again reminded that she has no idea where she is supposed to go.

“Wait — no. Where are you gonna take him?”

“I don’t know,” she admits. “Where are you supposed to take stray cats?”

He shrugs. “I dunno.”

“Okay. I —”

“But I have an idea.”

꙳ ꙳ ꙳

The Bridgertons live on a gold mine. Metaphorically. Literally, they live on nearly an acre of land in the middle of Mayfair. Their back garden is massive compared to the neighbours that surround them, a feat that is only possible due to the home being passed down from one Bridgerton to the next for so many generations. That’s the same reason Penelope’s family is still able to reside in the house across the street, but their garden is not nearly as sprawling.

“Where are we going?”

She and Colin hadn’t gone through his house, rather, they went around it. Now, he leads her towards the very back of the estate, a few steps ahead, one hand on the wall to their left. His index finger traces the cracks between the stones.

“Have some patience, Pen.”

“I — I do.” And she does. Usually. Usually, Penelope is a remarkably patient girl. Well-mannered. Quiet. She usually wears those attributes on her shoulders like a uniform. But for some reason, they tend to slip away from her whenever Colin is near.

Penelope’s eyes flick right, towards Colin’s family home. It seems purposeful, that they’re walking along the shadows of this wall.

“Is Eloise home yet?” she asks, for no other reason than to fill the silence between them. Usually, Penelope prefers such silence. But not right now.

“Uh, no. Ben took her into the city for her, uh… Her doctor appointment. They usually don’t get back until supper time.”

Out of Colin’s view, she nods. For the past year — ever since Mr. Bridgerton died — Eloise has been seeing a doctor in the city pretty regularly. Penelope’s mum told her to never ask any follow up questions about these visits… but silently, she’s always questioned what type of doctor is able to fix an ailment like heartbreak.

“Are you doing anything for the summer holiday?” she asks, another attempt to just fill the silence. She already knows the answer. They always travel up to Aubrey Hall for at least a week, this time of year. Always.

“Nah. Just staying here, I guess.”

“Oh.” Dread appears suddenly and sits heavily in Penelope’s stomach. Mr. Bridgerton died at Aubrey Hall last August. Of course they’re not eager to return. “Us too.”

“Cool. I’ll see you around then.”

She feels her cheeks instantly flush. “Yeah. Cool,” she says, hoping her voice does not expose the growing warmth on her skin.

Without a word, Colin breaks away from the stone wall beside them and walks towards a particularly dense cluster of trees. When Penelope follows, she finds Colin standing next to something she’s never seen before, despite the many years she’s spent playing with Eloise in this yard. It’s a wooden shed of sorts. It’s wide and just about as tall as Penelope.

“What is that?”

“Some old shed. I dunno… I think they used to store firewood in here, back in the olden days.” He kicks open the latch with his foot. “Empty now, though. I don’t think anyone else remembers it’s here.”

“So…”

“So, your cat could live here.”

Penelope looks down. At some point in the last few minutes, she had somehow forgotten the kitten held tightly against her chest. She had forgotten her whole point in being here.

“Oh! Right. That’s, um…”

She steals another glance at the shed. It certainly does look like it was last used during the “olden times.”

“That’s really kind. But how would he — how would that work?”

“We get him a bed, milk, food… Everything a cat needs to survive.”

Penelope’s brow furrows. “Those things cost money…”

Colin shrugs. “I’ll steal a $20 out of Anthony’s wallet.” A smile erupts on his face when he sees shock overtake Penelope’s. He didn’t know a child could open their mouth that wide. “Kidding — I’ll just tell him I’m sad. He’ll probably hand me a $20 and tell me to go fix my feelings with ice cream.”

“Oh — okay. But…” Her mind stalls, searching for another flaw in his logic to voice aloud. There are just so many to choose from. “Mum always says we can’t get a pet cause they’re too much responsibility. You have to take care of them, feed them, make sure —”

“Hey — we’re both very responsible people. I help keep Greg alive, and that kid thinks licking an electrical socket is a fun pastime. If I can do that, keeping a cat alive will be nothing.”

“So we would, um…” She steals another glance at the shed before them. She can’t help but look at it and see a cage. “We would just lock him in there all day?”

“No!” He says quickly, a bit nervously. “We’ll keep the door open — or I could even cut a cat-sized hole in the side. You know, so he can come and go as he pleases.”

“But if he’s able to leave that easily… Won’t he get lost again?”

“No. If I know anything about cats, it’s that if you feed them, they’ll always find their way back to you. And since you found him hanging out in Grosvenor Square, clearly he’s an outside cat, not an inside cat.”

Penelope looks down at the kitten again. His attention has turned away from her; his round eyes dart back and forth wildly as he takes in all the space around them.

“I thought only strays went outside.”

“No. A cat can have a home and not want to stay cooped up in at all day long.” Colin takes another step towards her. He raises his hand and scratches behind the kitten’s ear, who immediately starts purring. “Clearly, this little badass wants to roam free.”

Yet again, Penelope can feel her cheeks burn pink. She’s lived in London her entire life, she’s heard words far worse than “badass” a million times before — but never from Colin’s lips. In fact, the two of them had never really been alone like this before. He was her best friend’s brother — a friend of sorts, but tangentially so. He was only ever in Penelope’s company through her friendship with Eloise. She isn’t used to having this much of his attention on her.

“Here.” After what feels like hours, she pulls the kitten away from her chest and nearly shoves him into Colin’s. “He seems to really like you.”

“Oh — okay.” Unsurprisingly — and annoyingly quickly — the kitten settles into his arms. Clearly, Colin’s natural charm works on animals just as well as it does on people.

Colin finally takes his eyes off of hers, turning around to show the kitten what could be his new home. With his gaze finally off her, Penelope’s mind flushes with panic. With words she had brushed off just moments before. Colin offering to spend his own money. To cut a hole in the shed. To take care of the cat, himself.

He has enough going on as it is.

Penelope looks up to see Colin setting the tiny creature down in the shed. Then, without much thought, she steps forward and takes the kitten in her arms again.

“I’m sorry, Colin. I didn’t mean to get you wrapped up in this.” She turns away, pulling the kitten closer into her chest. “I’ll drop him off that the fire —”

“Pen, stop.” His hand falls on her shoulder, then squeezes it once, gently. Although she is not very experienced in receiving such small physical gestures, Penelope can tell that he meant it to be reassuring. “He’ll be fine here, I promise.”

She turns slowly. His hand drops. By the time they face each other again, her blush has almost abandoned her cheeks. Almost.

“Are you sure it’s not too much?”

He laughs. Genuinely. Kindly. Just as he always does.

“No.” Gently, Colin pulls the kitten out of her arms again. “How could this little guy ever be ‘too much?’”

Pushing away all thoughts that scream that this is a bad idea, Penelope pushes her shoulders back. She stands tall (metaphorically, of course).

“I’ll do half the work — at least. I can check on his bowl every morning. Make sure he has water and food and whatever else he needs. Maybe you can do the same at night. And if you ever can’t, just let me know and I’ll help. And if it ever does become too much, I can find him somewhere else to live.”

When she finally closes her mouth, Colin’s smile returns. Then, he extends his hand towards her. “You got a deal, Featherington.”

Tentatively, Penelope raises her hand to seal said deal. But before she can make contact, Colin’s hand moves, as if to signal her to “stop.”

“Once last thing. We should just keep this whole thing between us, or ya know… Anthony will send both me and the cat to the nearest shelter.”

“Colin! I —”

“Kidding!” He laughs again, which has a surprisingly good effect on Penelope’s nerves. “But really… It’s simpler if we don’t tell anyone else. Not even Eloise — she can’t keep a secret for her life.”

She tilts her head again, stealing a not-so-quick glance at his eyes (through the mop of hair still obscuring that blue-green colour). Since as long as she can remember, Penelope has always wanted more of Colin — in some ways that she will not be able to define with words until she is much older. But even at just eight years old, Penelope knows she wants to be around him. She wants his attention. She wants to share a secret with him. Even if she knows it’s a bad idea.

“Deal.” With that, Penelope shakes Colin’s hand and seals their fate forever.

꙳ ꙳ ꙳

August 5th, 2003

꙳

It turned out to be a rather easy secret to keep.

Penelope was good at staying unseen — at blending into the shadows. Every morning at approximately 7 AM, she snuck into the Bridgerton back garden. And every morning at approximately 7:10 AM, she snuck out without being noticed by anyone other than Colin. Not that has mum or siblings would bat an eye if they happened to find Penelope back there. Before Edmund died and her own mum warned her to keep herself scarce, there were times that Penelope spent more time at the Bridgertons’ home than her own house. And despite Portia’s warnings, they would gladly invite her inside, any day.

Colin was also quite good at escaping his family’s notice on his own daily task. Every night around dusk, he would sneak into the kitchen or bathroom, fill an 8-ounce bottle with tap water, then hide it in the front pocket of whatever hoodie he happened to be wearing that day. They kept the cat food in the shed, in a locked container Colin bought at the pet store down the street (with money he had stolen from Anthony’s wallet — although he never admitted that he followed through on the theft “joke” to Penelope). The longer time went on, the less effort he put into sneaking out of the house everyday. The longer time went on, the more obvious it became how easy it is to disappear from a house with nine people. Especially when the one person everyone searches for is no longer around.

The only conspirator that ever put them at risk of being found out was Mr. Whiskers (a name Colin had thought of, after Penelope complained that they couldn’t just keep calling him “little guy.”). Three times in two weeks, Whiskers had loitered around the Bridgerton’s back steps, meowing for attention. Colin had caught him the first time and shooed him off. Daphne caught him the second time and screamed bloody murder. Anthony caught him the third and nearly called animal control, but thankfully, Benedict had stepped in to tell their older brother to “chill out.” Thankfully, Whiskers seemed wary of coming close to the Bridgerton household after that last encounter.

A routine formed. Penelope would sneak into the garden in the morning. Colin would sneak out of his home at night. Mr. Whiskers would come and go as he pleased between meals. Their paths rarely cross. Until tonight, when Colin spots someone running towards the back of the garden in the moonlight from his bedroom window.

Someone quite short.

Less than five minutes later, Colin runs along the same path — far less cautious than he usually is at dusk. He prays his mum or siblings are not watching out their windows like he was his. That they’re asleep — not pacing circles in their rooms in the middle of the night. He knows the risks are there, but the further his feet carry him, the more faraway they feel.

He hears crying in the distance. Quiet, but persistent.

He sees her before she sees him — sitting criss crossed on the entry of the shed, Mr. Whiskers climbing into her lap tentatively. She does not notice him until he is standing but a few feet away.

Colin had felt distinctly uneasy since the very moment he spotted her in the back garden. But a wave of fear strikes him cold when their eyes meet. Hers go so wide that he swears he can see the moonlight reflect off of them. She does not immediately speak; even her crying goes silent when she realises she is not alone.

“Pen, what’s wrong? How can I help?”

“Noth — nothing.” She sounds scared. At least the fearful look in her eye is somewhat obstructed by nightfall. Her words cut clean through the darkness.

He steps forward, now standing only inches away from her. Instinctively, his hand raises and gently grips her shoulder. He feels her flinch beneath his touch, but not enough to remove herself from it.

“Pen, whatever it is, you can tell me. I can help.”

She averts his gaze, focusing intently on the cat still sitting in her lap.

“It’s nothing, really. I — I just wanted to see Mr. Whiskers for a little bit.”

Colin doesn’t say anything, too busy internally trying to make sense of the words she spills and the worry in her voice. They do not fit together.

“I’m sorry,” she continues. She uses the back of her hand to wipe at her nose. “I shouldn’t have — I’ll just go.”

“Don’t go.” Before Penelope can move, Colin squeezes her shoulder again. His mum does the same thing when he gets so upset and that he needs help calming down.

Slowly, under Colin’s grasp, Penelope’s shoulders stop heaving. Her breath evens out. She meets his eye again.

“What happened?”

“Honestly, nothing.”

“Pen —”

“Nothing that isn’t, like, normal, I mean.” He does not know what she means. He can’t imagine a single normal thing that would cause someone to run away crying from their home in the middle of the night. Especially someone as small and defenceless as Penelope.

“Mum and dad were just fighting,” she confesses after realising that Colin’s look of concern will not fade unless she tells him the truth. “A bit louder than usual, I guess. But it’s not like I haven’t heard them fight a million times before.”

“That’s —” Not normal. But he doesn’t say that. He can’t say that. He’s suddenly — alarmingly — struck by the fact that what he deems “normal” might not be the same for Penelope. That there are “normal” things in his life — all of which came about in the past year — that other people would scoff at and tell him are unimaginable for a kid to deal with at his age.

That’s not right, would be more accurate. But he doesn’t say that either. Instead, he simply asks: “Do you want to come inside? El is probably asleep, but I could wake her —”

“No — thank you, but no. I should actually get going.” With that, Penelope slips out of his hold. “Mum will kill me if she realises I slipped out.” She places Mr. Whiskers back in the shed before turning to leave. She takes four steps before Colin finds his voice again.

“You don’t have to do deal with this all by yourself, Pen. I’m here. I want to help.”

At his words, Penelope goes completely still. Deer-in-deadlights type stillness. Then, before he knows it, she’s walking towards him.

Her arms wrap around his torso. Her hands land firmly on his spine. Her forehead falls on his shoulder. Without a single thought, his body reacts. His arms wrap around her and his jaw settles on the crown of her head. For a moment, it feels like its just the two of them in the world. Until Colin feels something furry cross his ankle.

“I guess Whiskers was feeling left out,” he says. Penelope laughs and Colin feels a bit lighter. That lightness is quickly followed by something hollow when Penelope pulls herself out of the hug to pick up the kitten meowing at her feet.

“He keeps trying to follow me home after breakfast.” She giggles softly. “Clearly, he doesn’t remember meeting my mum, or else he would stay away forever. I think she thought he was a rat that day I found him.”

Colin chuckles, and it’s only somewhat forced. “Yeah, he tried sneaking into my house a few times. He met Anthony last time, though, and I don’t think he’s ever gonna forget that.”

She giggles again. “Was he mad?”

“His face was red — literally! Although, I’m starting to think that’s just how is face normally is and that it takes great effort for him to appear like us normal people, if that’s how he reacts to a cute little kitten hanging around our back door.”

Penelope scratches Whiskers behind his ears. Eyes not leaving the cat, she whispers: “I don’t know how people can see something so sweet and get so mad.”

Colin’s eyes don’t leave Penelope when he responds, suddenly a bit deflated: “Me neither.”

Slowly, she lowers Mr. Whiskers back to the ground. The cat does not appear to be very keen on leaving her side just yet, but Penelope still insists: “I should really head back now. Before anyone notices I left.”

Colin spares a glance over his shoulder, towards the family home he had nearly forgotten about. It’s likely past midnight already, but there are still a few lights on upstairs.

“Yeah,” he grumbles. “Me too.”

Penelope nods. She looks like she’s about to turn and leave when Colin blurts out: “You wanna meet here again in the morning? When you feed Whiskers, I mean.”

She doesn’t immediately respond with words, but rather with a very confused expression lit by the moonlight. “I thought —”

“Our system’s like efficient and all,” he cuts in, “but we haven’t exactly seen each other much since we started taking care of him. I dunno, I guess I just thought that we would hang out more.”

“Oh!” Her voice registers barely below a squeak. “Yeah. I know what you mean. I…” She pauses so long that Colin wonders if it is his turn to speak again. But right before he can blurt out something again, Penelope says: “I’d like that.”

For the first time in days, a smile creeps up on Colin’s lips.

“Cool. See you tomorrow.”

꙳ ꙳ ꙳

August 14th, 2003

꙳

“I’m not sure I understand the rules of this game.”

“It’s our game. The rules can be whatever we want them to be.”

Penelope stands with the tips of her toes and the palms of her hands pressed neatly against Colin’s matching sets. There’s a piece of cat biscuit placed between her right palm and Colin’s left. There’s a tiny kitten peering up at them from where their shoes connect. He looks just as confused on the parameters of this game as Penelope feels.

The rules, they eventually settle on, are these:

Before getting into the aforementioned position, one person briefly presents the biscuit to Mr. Whiskers (taking turns to avoid leading the cat towards favouritism of one player over another).

On the count of three, one person takes the biscuit into their hands, both turn around and run in opposite directions.

Mr. Whiskers follows whoever he believes holds his treat.

Penelope ends up with the biscuit three times. Colin ends up with it five times. It falls to the ground between them eleven times. Each time, without fail, Whiskers immediately takes off after Penelope.

“This isn’t fair!” Colin calls out from behind a tree on their twentieth attempt at this so-called ‘game.’ “It’s not my fault you bonded with him first.” He points a finger at the cat currently pawing at her ankles. “I feed you just as much as she does — traitor!”

“Shhh, Colin!” Penelope whisper-yells. “Someone might hear you.”

“Oh, who cares?” he says nonchalantly, retreating back towards the shed.

I care, Penelope thinks. She doesn’t want any one of Colin’s many siblings to stumble upon them back here. She’s not ready to give up this secret. She’s not willing to end this game. Not yet, anyway.

“Mr. Whiskers cares. I doubt he wants to be evicted from his home just because you’re a sore loser.” She picks the kitten up and plops him down on Colin’s lap, now sitting criss-cross in the shed’s doorway.

“Well, he should have thought about that before picking sides.” He sticks his tongue out at Mr. Whiskers, who continues to appear unphased by his surroundings.

Like she has come accustomed to doing over the past two weeks, Penelope sits down on the other end of the shed’s opening. His body is turned towards her, but she keeps her positioned outwards, as if to keep watch. Her legs cross in front of her at the ankles, her nails scratch into the grain beneath her, and, sitting upright, the crown of her head brushes the wood frame. Colin is — obviously — slouched in his spot beside her.

After a moment of quiet, Colin clears his throat.

“You know, you can come over for dinner tonight, if you want.”

“Oh, no. That’s okay,” Penelope says quickly. Dismissively. “Mum will expect me home soon. I think we’re having stew.”

“Yeah, but what about tomor—” It’s a pretty uncommon occurrence for Penelope to see a blush pass by Colin’s typically unblemished face, but right now, it hits his cheeks in an instant. He turns away. “Well, not tomorrow. Obviously. But another day.”

The mention of tomorrow brings a feverish feeling to Penelope’s chest. Much different than the warm feeling she usually feels in that same spot when she’s around Colin.

“I can’t. I — I don’t want to impose.”

“You wouldn’t.” He finally looks her in the eye again. “You wouldn’t, I promise. When you have eight kids, one more mouth to feed hardly makes a difference.” His eyes travel to the side again. They point towards his house, partially obstructed by the scattering of trees they’ve found themselves in. “El would be happy if you stopped in. Mum too.”

Penelope tries to push out her mother’s voice from her head when she says: “Yeah. Another day. Soon.”

“Good.”

After another moment of quiet, she pushes herself forward and lands with two feet on the grass.

“I really should head back now, though.”

“Okay, I’ll —”

“But, Colin?” She interrupts — a truly rare occurrence for Penelope Featherington.

“Yeah?”

“I was just thinking… Maybe I could feed Mr. Whiskers breakfast and dinner tomorrow. I know we have our system, but… I just — I don’t want you to have to deal with taking care of him on top of any… family stuff.”

Colin, now holding rather tightly onto Mr. Whiskers in his arms, considers her offer for a moment. His brows furrow. His eyes glance downward. He starts forming a word on his lips and Penelope expects to hear the word “no” escape from them shortly after. But instead, he nods and says: “That’s kind of you to offer. Thanks, Pen.”

Kindness isn’t something that Penelope has ever been thanked for before. She had been rewarded for it in other ways, but not like this. Kindness had always been something that was expected, not appreciated. Now, she feels hesitant to accept thanks for something as small as offering up a few minutes of her time for someone who has gone through more grief than she can even imagine. So instead of accepting it outright, she simply nods and says: “Goodnight, Colin.”

꙳ ꙳ ꙳

August 25th, 2003

꙳

When Penelope walks towards the shed at approximately 6:55 AM this Monday morning, the door is shut. This is strange. The door is always open. Penelope had convinced Colin not to cut a little cat door on the side of the shed (he had wanted to use a saw from their garage), so the door always has to be open for Whiskers to come and go. Always.

The closer she gets, the harder it is for her to take another step. Her head is already filled with the image of an empty cavern on the other side of that door. It couldn’t have close on its own; the latch is locked. Someone closed it.

Just as her hand grazes that metal latch, Penelope hears footsteps. Quick and increasingly loud footsteps. She jumps (literally) around — heart pounding, eyes wide — and sees…

“Colin! Where’s Mr. Whiskers?!

“In there.” He points to the shed behind her, still shut tight. Once he gets close enough, he reaches over he shoulder and finally undoes the latch. Just as promised, the cat is there, curiously looking up at them.

“He keeps trying to follow me back into the house after I feed him. Last night, he was scratching at the back door. Thank God I got to him before Anthony.”

“So he was just locked in there all night?”

She spares another sideways glance at the shed’s interior. It’s not nearly as bare as it had been that first day she looked inside. There’s two containers. Two bowls. Two electric lanterns. A blanket. A few cat toys. And a few human toys she assumes once belonged to Colin. To an animal as tiny as Mr. Whiskers, it might seem huge, but to Penelope, it all feels very claustrophobic.

“Yeah, but… Sometimes it’s just safer to stay put for a little while. Even outdoor cats need to be reigned in some nights.”

Penelope doesn’t know whether to agree or disagree with his words, so she tries her best to ignore them. She climbs into the shed, gives Whiskers an affectionate bop on the head, then fills his bowl with breakfast.

“I wanted to wake up early and let him out, but… I guess I slept in.” Colin’s out of her view, still standing just outside the shed, but she can guess there’s a guilty look creeping up on his face.

“You’re not wrong,” she finally settles on. When Whiskers finishes his meal, she finally looks back to Colin. Just as expected, guilt is evident on his face. “But maybe Mr. Whiskers isn’t an outside cat after all. Maybe that’s why he keeps trying to follow us back to our own homes.”

“I thought that was just because he loves us.” Leave it to Colin Bridgerton to transform guilt into charm in under 30 seconds.

“Well…” Penelope turns back to Mr. Whiskers again. As usual, he’s peering up at them with a transfixed — maybe even loving — stare. “Maybe you have a point.”

“I usually do —”

“But still — do you really think this is what’s best for him?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean…”

She bites her tongue — literally. All of this started because of her own selfish wants. To keep the cat. To occupy Colin’s attention. To have a reason to get out of her house every morning. But the more time has gone on, the harder it has become to see past the potential consequences of her selfishness.

“Summer’s almost over. We have to go back to school and can’t look out for him all day. It’s gonna get cold soon…” Colin’s face looks serious now. More serious than she’s used to seeing it. She looks away. “What if he gets sick? Or needs a vet? I just don’t know if this is really his best option.”

Penelope points both hands towards the shed. Towards the small wooden structure that completely transformed her summer. Towards the only home Mr. Whiskers has ever known — dim and claustrophobic as it may be. She expects Colin’s eyes to follow her lead, but they don’t. For a moment, it feels as though her presence completely slips from his view. His eyes are fixated on something in the distance — something in the opposite direction. Then —

“Shite!”

His arms hastily wrap around Penelope’s waist. It takes everything in her not to shriek in surprise as he practically throws her into the shed. Thankfully, Mr. Whiskers jumps from the doorway to the back of the shed in an instant, or else she surely would have crushed him on impact.

“Colin! What —”

“Shh!” Colin climbs in and shuts the door behind him. Thank God those electric lamps are still (just barely) holding onto life and dimly illuminating the space, or else Penelope would not have been able to discern him mouth: “Anthony.”

The tips of their toes touch in the limited space. Penelope wonders if he can feel her shaking through the plastic tips of her yellow converse. The concerned look he throws her way tells her that he must.

“You okay?” he mouths.

She thinks about nodding. She briefly wonders if a nod can count as a lie, or if lies can only be spoken aloud. But she doesn’t do anything, except stay frozen in her spot.

Everything is quiet. For a brief moment, Penelope thinks they may have actually gone unnoticed. Then, she remembers that the latch — the flimsy piece of metal that keeps these doors shut — is on the other side. When Mr. Whiskers paws at the wood beams, the door swings open. The morning light nearly blinds her, but not enough to miss Anthony Bridgerton’s very mad — very red — face.

“Colin — what the hell?!”

Just as Colin had thrown her into of the shed mere moments ago, Anthony now pulls Penelope out of it by the shoulders. Just like Whiskers, she somehow manages to land on her feet.

“I knew it! I knew you were irresponsible, but this —” He bends down and grabs Whiskers by the scruff of his neck. “This is insane. Even for you.”

Anthony turns to Penelope, as if he has only just now discovered her presence beside Colin. In mere seconds, she watches his face turn from anger to shock to annoyance. He turns to his little brother again.

“I will be the responsible adult and make sure this — thing — finds an actual home and doesn’t continue living on the streets.” With a near-growl caught in his throat, Anthony tells Colin: “We will discuss this later.”

He turns to leave, but stops. “And Colin, do not mention this to mum. Or anyone else.”

He starts then stops again. “And Penelope, please do not let my brother’s bad influence rub off on you. A nice girl like you has enough trouble as it is being friends with Eloise.”

It isn’t until Anthony has properly stomped away, Mr. Whiskers securely tucked in his arms, that Penelope seems to regain control of her body and mind. Slowly, she turns towards Colin. She uses every second between then and the moment she looks him in the eye to begin preparing an apology. For getting him in trouble with his brother. For getting him caught up in this mess to start with. For being a bad friend. But the moment that their eyes meet… Colin does not look like he is expecting an apology of any sort.

He laughs.

“Did you see the look on his face?!”

“Uhh. I don’t —”

“He looked like a tomato! I swear one day he’s gonna burst and —”

“Colin,” she says, concern in her voice, too low to break through the noise of his continued laughter.

“— marina sauce is gonna go flying —”

“Colin!” she says again, a bit louder this time. Thankfully, it seems to get his attention. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have —”

“Oh god, Pen. Don’t be sorry.”

“But —”

“But your — your brother —”

“I should be apologising for Ant— even if you and him were both right about Whiskers needing somewhere else to live.”

“Yeah…” As much as she will miss her tiny, furry friend, this is for the best. For Whiskers, at least. “But Anthony was so mad at you. And I —”

“He’ll get over it. That’s the great thing about having seven siblings — wait five minutes and someone will do something even stupider than you. Daph and El are probably inside getting into a fist fight as we speak.”

The mention of her best friend temporarily draws Penelope’s thoughts away from her internal pity party. She saw Eloise plenty of times over the past few weeks, but not nearly as much as she did during previous summer breaks. Before last August.

“You wanna come over for dinner tonight?” Colin asks, breaking her from her thought spiral.

“Hmm?”

“I said,” he smirks, “do you want to come over for dinner tonight?”

“I don’t know… Anthony seemed —”

“Don’t worry about Anthony. He’ll get over it — and you heard him, he’s not even going to rat us out to my mum.” He takes a step forward, then places his hand on Penelope’s shoulder. He squeezes it once. “It’ll be fun. Everyone will be excited to see you.”

Not for the first time — and certainly not the last — Penelope feels at a loss for words. All she can manage is a tiny nod. A nearly imperceptible movement.

Colin smiles.

“Good. Just so you know, the door is always open. Always.”

Finally, little Penelope Featherington finds her voice again.

“I know.”

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

Penelope tries to hide the smile on her lips by shoving another fork full of shrimp fried rice into her mouth. Colin — of course — sees right through her attempt.

“So…”

“Anthony was right. We were awfully irresponsible that summer. He was better off after Danbury took him in and he became Lord Whiskers.”

“Hey — give us a little credit! How many 8 or 10-year-olds do you know who could keep a cat alive for a summer all by themselves?”

“The only impressive thing we did that summer was keeping our little secret hidden from the rest of your family.”

“What are you talking about?!” Colin says, unable to keep his ever-charming laugh from escaping his throat as he speaks. “Do not downplay our role in raising that cat. You rescued him from the mean streets of London. I —”

“I found him hiding out in a bush in Grosvenor Square!”

“Exactly! And I —”

“Colin!”

“I built him a home,” he barely manages to get out through his laughter.

“That’s a bit over-dra—”

“We fed and took care of him for over a month. We were just kids — that’s pretty impressive. That means something.”

In her heart, Penelope knows that — obviously — it means something. But does it mean what Colin wants it to mean? That they should get married? Even with the rules he set forth, it seems like an insane connection to even consider.

“I don’t know…”

“For five weeks, he was ours. That means a lot.”

For a moment, Penelope does consider it. She thinks about who Colin was to her before she found Mr. Whiskers. A friend — of sorts. Her best friend’s brother. A neighbour. A crush. Someone she looked at and longed for. After, she thinks of who Colin was to her on that morning Anthony found them hiding out in that tiny wooden shed. A friend. A fellow kid. A conspirator. Someone who saw her cowering in the dark and asked if she was okay.

So what, if their hypothetical marriage hinges on a technicality? People have married on flimsier grounds before.

“Fine,” she relents. “It counts.”

A moment ago, she wouldn’t have thought it possible, but Colin’s grin grows even wider.

“Of course it does.” As Penelope attempts to cover her own grin with a scoff, Colin picks up his phone again.

“Let’s see…”

#im an atheist and im saying a prayer for ao3 tonight #fanfic #bridgerton #fanfiction #polin #dancing around the truth #weepingfromacedartree #penelope featherington #colin bridgerton #ao3 #archive of our own #edit: just realized I wrote 'marina' sauce instead of 'marinara' sauce #and I'm not fixing it cause that shits funny #shout out to my girl marina

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