#third season felt empty without him

[myszalowska]

Here's my hot take on The Bad Batch as an AuDHD person: I do not quite like the fact that people are calling Tech neurodivergent. It's not like he can't be — he absolutely can. It's about the trope that annoys me. I am tired of autistic people being portrayed and/or seen as an ingenious man who just happen to lack social skills.

Why doesn't anybody say that, idk, Crosshair might be neurodivergent instead? For example, he has a hard time fitting in, he doesn't seem to like it when someone touches him, he demonstrates rigid thinking and he also stims (which, I must underline, does not mean that he's definitely ND).

Because he isn't as nice as Tech, I guess. Because of the said stereotypical trope. People are used to it because it's everywhere — "The Good doctor", "Young Sheldon", whatever. While calling Tech neurodivergent is not an inherently bad thing, it still perpetuates the abovementioned stereotype. And perpetuating it certainly doesn't not help anybody to take a step to true acceptance of neurodivergency.

It's okay when neurodivergent people write posts along the lines "Tech is sooo ND", but when it's the neurotypicals doing it, it kinda feels like seeing people call a villain mentally ill just because he's a villain. But that's a whole different topic.

Once again, I'm not against the idea of Tech being ND, I'm against the stereotype that just can't die.

[08luvmailz]

★ ﾟ๑ PARTY ON YOU ୧ ⊹ ࣪

ᡴꪫ which yeon sieun shuts you after he transferred schools ୧ ⊹ ࣪ second part ／console me, and then i'll leave without a trace ୧ ⊹ ࣪ third part ／ I'd do anything just for me to see you again ──⠀ angst / no comfort , set before ep1 of s2 ⸝⸝ ◜◡◝ i just read some fanfics on wattpad and some are just with sieun after the events of season 1... i just have a feeling that he can push someone away from his life.. even if it hurts him too.

There was a time when she thought, what happened to us? where did it all go wrong?

In sixteen years of living, love had always felt like a distant star — something warm and beautiful, yet always out of reach. To love was a risk. To be loved, a miracle. And in between, she simply learned how to live without expecting either.

Her love for taekwondo had been constant, unwavering. It was a language she was taught at a ripe age of 4 with her father, trophies made him happy. It was a bond that she shared with him, to make him feel proud, strong, and it feeds his ego. She was the best, she had to be—for him. But as she grows it withers slowly, so is her dad, until what once felt like an unbreakable connection became fragile, like a leaf caught in a fading breeze.

Ballet was a profound hope — the kind that stretched her limbs and lifted her heart, a yearning for her mother's approval that she could never quite grasp. Each pirouette, each graceful leap, was a silent plea for validation. But the nagging, the expectations that came with it, only weighed her down, turning what was once her sanctuary into a cage.

Her mother had once been a prima ballerina, graceful and untouchable, a star that shone brightly in the world of dance. But then she had given birth to her — and with that, the light dimmed. Seventeen years of her life felt like a constant shadow, as if she, the daughter, was the mistake that interrupted her mother’s prime.

In her, eyes. She is the reflection of what she could be.

But alas, in all of this, it was hardest to be loved. Her peers, so quick to judge, had no room for the simple truth of her heart. To boast was to be called egoistic, to stand tall in her own strength was a crime of arrogance. Yet, if she became humble, they whispered that she sought validation — attention, as if her quiet steps were nothing more than a plea for free applause.

Her personality was a mere bubble— shiny, radiant, reflecting the world around her with a brilliance that caught the light. She became what they wanted to see, a mirror of their expectations, fitting in. But beneath the facade, emptiness, hollow. The reflection wasn't hers to begin with, she wore a mask to survive, as soon as it pops, she was nothing.

She had once been bubbly. Loud in the most sincere way — laughing with her whole chest, arms always outstretched as if the world was waiting to be hugged. But the world didn't hug back. It recoiled. Her light became too much, her joy became annoying, and slowly, quietly, she folded in on herself.

Then there was him, Suho.

That haul ass, he actually did.

He saw her like no one does, not some attention seeker, threat or whatever her classmates called her. But, some lonely kid who accidently trips on his desk and apologize meekly for waking him up. It's like at the snap of his fingers — they were friends, it felt so strange on the tip of her tongue. It wasn't on her vocabulary to call someone 'a friend', she smiled at the thought, she could finally say "mom, im with a friend. oh, im hanging out with my friend. Dad, i'll be late. Im with suho, he's the delivery kid"

He was there for her, vice versa. They share drinks, he taught her some tricks. Rode his mop of a motorcycle and helps him sometimes (she begs to help) in his deliveries, taught her to ride his motorcycle but was banned from ever driving it because they almost crashed, gifted him on his birthday that pig like arm-rest pillow because he sleeps during class, anytime—anywhere.

After Suho, came Sieun — the boy with a mind like steel and a heart he kept under lock. She hadn’t meant to break in. She just smiled at him one day, really smiled, all softness and quiet light. And instead of turning away, he looked at her — really looked — but he quickly turned away and do what he always do, study.

It wasn’t much, but it was everything.

After that, they became closer (she and suho forced themselves in his, peaceful life and made it their profound home). He didn’t speak much, but she learned to read the pauses between his words, the silence that carried more weight than most voices ever could. And in those small, strange moments, something unspoken bloomed — not loud like laughter, but steady like breath.

Beomseok joined last — hesitant and unsure, the quiet space-filler who stood at the edge of the light until he learned how to laugh without apology. With them, he found a version of himself that didn’t have to shrink. And she noticed — the way he kept things to himself, always smiling, always deflecting. But underneath it all, he was alone. Like her. And she respected him for that — for surviving in silence, for fighting battles no one could see. It was like they spoke a secret language, stitched together by glances and almosts. If Suho hadn’t been the first to crack her open, to teach her that loud kindness could feel safe — it might’ve been Beomseok.

They were alike, it felt like it. She never asked for more than he could give. He would treat her to milk tea without a word, and she would tag him in her stories like a quiet thank-you — ‘he bought this for us today’. His presence was constant, and sometimes, constancy felt close enough to love.

The four of them never made sense, heck their personalities mixed in a wheel. But together, it felt like home, peace. They make it— make sense.

She remembered that day, where Beomseok invited them in a fancy cafe, the three of them were underdressed in hoodies and jackets and and scuffed shoes, while she had worn something a little too nice — something she thought might match the place. Suho took one look at them and laughed, nudging her playfully. ‘We look like your bodyguards,’ he said, grinning. ‘Or your butlers,’ Beomseok added with a rare, easy laugh, raising his brow. ‘Maybe you’re the one who’ll be paying, princess.’ She rolled her eyes, but the warmth in her chest was real, golden.

And Sieun, he said nothing. Just watching the scene as it played across the table that ever-neutral mask on his face. But then, for just a second, the corner of his mouth curved. A small, tipped smile — fleeting, quiet, but it was there. And she held onto it like a pressed flower in the pages of her memory.

Or when she invited them to her house to make shakes she shared at the group chat. Chaos, and wasted ingredients lingered on her mind.

She remembered nights they spent on rooftops eating instant noodles. Suho would tell dumb jokes, Beomseok would laugh too hard, and Sieun would roll his eyes but never leave. She remembered the market stall — her and Sieun, shoulder to shoulder, sharing a hot bowl of doenjang jjigae on a cold day, pinky fingers brushing as they both reached for the last piece of tofu. He didn’t pull away.

They had made a promise that day.

"Next time, we'll get our own bowls"

"No, let's keep sharing. Its more delicious to share with... friends"

He nodded at her and the promised was sealed.

There was the photobooth too — that cramped, blinking little box on the corner of a busy arcade. She and Beomseok had practically dragged Suho and Sieun inside, laughter already bubbling before the first flash. Suho’s long legs stuck out from under the curtain, his face half-covered as the fabric kept hitting him. He grumbled through a smile, ever dramatic. Sieun sat stiffly in the corner, back too straight, unsure what to do with his hands, his expression tight but his presence willing. And Beomseok — sweet, ridiculous Beomseok — came back with an armful of props. Sunglasses too big, fake mustaches, and a tiara that she insisted Suho to wear.

They argued over poses, switched hats mid-frame, and by the time the countdown hit one, they had given up on perfection. They just laughed. Uncoordinated and chaotic, but real.

She kept the strip, in a frame to look at. To reminisce.

At that point, she felt like on the cloud. It felt like she was dreaming, its too good, she dreamt of this before where she would have friends who are there for her and she would be too. But every dream turns to be a nightmare when she woke.

She wished to never woke up.

She wished it will just be the same as it was before.

She wished she helped, noticed, talk.

She wished it all.

She just wished, but she never acted.

She never did, she watched it all happen.

In a snap, it all crumbled down.

And it crumbled them apart, them. The 4 of them, nothing.

But then came the fight. The blood. The hospital room with fluorescent lights that never flickered off. Suho, broken and still. Beomseok, shattered in ways they didn’t see until it was too late. And Sieun — closed off tighter than ever, fists clenched, eyes wild with a grief he refused to name.

It all fell apart, the shared laughter, the whispers during class bothering Sieun. Everything falling apart.

She held him when he broke down in that sterile hallway, her arms around his trembling body. She thought they were in this together.

Then he left.

He left, without a goodbye.

Not even a glance, not a word.

No messages, calls.

Just absence, his lingering precense, silence.

She waited for him, days turns to weeks, to months.

She called. Texted. Wrote long, tearful messages and erased them. She even waited outside the hospital, hoping he’d come back. Sometimes she’d fall asleep in the hallway chair, cold noodles beside her, unread texts blinking on her phone screen like a cruel joke.

He never replied.

She scoffed and chuckled softly. It was all typical.

Of course, It's Sieun after all.

In the end, she had to bribe a teacher. Just a little. Nothing serious. Just a favor passed in whispers, the gentle weight of desperation folded inside an envelope. A name. A connection. A sliver of a chance.

She hadn’t meant to go this far, but silence was starting to rot in her chest, and she couldn’t take another unanswered message blinking cold on her screen. By some cruel or kind miracle, her homeroom teacher — warm, a little nosy, but always kind — happened to know the man who owned the building Sieun now lived in.

And that was her signal. To go and visit him.

She packed carefully. His favorite brand of milk, chilled and sweating in her bag. A container of doenjang jjigae — just like the one they shared at that tiny market stall, the day they had laughed, just the two of them, broth steaming between them, future humming on their tongues and a bouquet of asters and pink camellias — for longing, for the soft, aching kind of love that tiptoes around the edge of confession.

She took two rides.

Two painful rides.

Two long, aching rides through the city’s breathless gray sky as her head leaning against cold windows, eyes tracking strangers who passed too fast to remember.

She didn't mind the wait.

It made her relentless, muttering softly the words she memorize to say.

Hi, its been a long time

Hi, you hungr- no scratch that it's too casual.

Hey, its been a long time. It sounded like the first one though...

Hey, Sieun. How are you? I bought some doenjang jjigae...

Her legs ached from waiting, her bag was heavier than usual — not from weight, but from meaning.

Still, she clutched it like a promise.

The milk. The stew. The flowers.

The shared memories.

She imagined what must be his reaction, would he smile, say sorry. But she couldn't imagine anything...its been too long since she last saw him, talked to him.

The building stood tall, too tall, like a giant of cold stone and glass. She glanced up, and her nerves betrayed her, sending her heart into a rapid dance at each step she took felt like a dream, her body moving on its own while her mind stayed behind, watching — detached, unsure.

The doors loomed ahead, distant yet close, a threshold she couldn't cross fast enough. Her breath was shallow, a quiet tremor in her hands, but she continued as her fingers brushed the buzzer, cold and sharp against her skin.

She rang the doorbell with a trembling hand, rehearsing her lines in her head.

“Hey, it’s been a while… I brought dinner.”

All of the memorized scriptures all felt crumbling as the door opened.

To her dismay.

Not him.

It was his mother.

She never bowed that fast, “Annyeonghaseyo,” she said, bowing deeply. “Is Sieun here?” As the silence crept as she waited for her answer as she stood infront of her timidly like a twig.

“I’m his mother,” the woman replied warmly. “Who are you?”

But before she could reply, at the corner of her eye.

Its him.

Its really him, Sieun-ah.

Her breath caught. Her pulse slowed and quickened all at once.

Yeon Sieun.

Same cold eyes, same unreadable mouth. He paused when he saw her. She waited for something to soften. Anything.

Nothing, pure silence on words but just footsteps.

“Oh, Sieun-ah,” his mother turned to him, surprised. “Is she your friend? You didn’t tell me she was coming.” His mother waited for his reply and that was it.

He said it. And all she could hear was emptiness.

Her world crumbled, all of it.

“I don’t have any friends. I don’t know her.”

He said it so softly, but why does it hurt when its supposed to be soft— his tone.

The silence after was suffocating.

She didn’t cry. Not yet.

She smiled instead — bitter and tight, her lips trembling at the edges. “Oh. I’m sorry, ma’am. He’s not the Sieun I knew. I must have the wrong floor.” She bowed again, lower this time, a goodbye written in the bend of her back. Her eyes closed to let her tears inside.

And, she turned away. Without a word.

The hallway stretched like a punishment. She kept her head high, but her hands shook. The elevator dinged too loudly.

At the trash bin, she paused. She looked at her hand was the flowers, a bouquet of asters and pink camellias — longing a person my ass. Carefully, she placed the flowers inside — the petals already wilting, the ribbon curling like regret.

She rode the elevator down in silence.

She walked in silence, the food swinging rapidly as she walked, she don't care anymore if it spilled.

She was so hungry, so tired.

She sat on the bench of the bus stop, its 7 already.

She sat down, opened the container, and let the scent of doenjang jjigae wash over her. Her stomach clenched. She took a bite. And then another.

And then she cried — not softly, not prettily. Just full, shaking sobs into the sleeve of her coat, stew forgotten on her lap.

She ate alone.

She sobbed alone. She ate while sobbing, its so pathetic.

She felt like its all junior high all over again, eating on the bathroom. Alone.

The warmth of the soup was gone, and so was their friendship.

She remembered the photograph of the photobooth, she remembered it, every detail even if it wasn't with her.

He looked at her, like he almost could have loved her.

All of it was just a mere joke.

And all she had left was the taste of something they once shared — now hers, now hollow.

♡ note ───── party on you party on you party on you party on you party on you party on you party on you party on you party on you party on you party on you party on you

[vampsol]

ANYTHING FOR YOU | 전원우

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ ꒰ MY FIC FOR JUPITER'S SECRET CUPID COLLAB

⟢ PAIRING: jeon wonwoo x fem!reader ⟢ WORD COUNT: 3K ⟢ GENRE: slight comedy, fluff, smut ⟢ TAGS: best friends to lovers au, drunk confession, dirty talk, breeding kink, unprotected sex, creampie, cum eating ⟢ SYNOPSIS: Wonwoo has been your best friend forever. And maybe something more could be in the cards with a mature, sophisticated confession. Or a lot of alcohol. ⟢ AUTHOR'S NOTE: Inspired by LANY's song "anything 4 u"! Big thanks to my betas for this fic Tiya (@gyubakeries), Honey (@heesuncore), and Mitchie (@seokgyuu)! I love you all so much. And this fic is for my Secret Cupid Ally (@lovetaroandtaemin)!! I love you loads and you're an incredible friend. I'm so glad I got you so I could share a small token of appreciation for our friendship. I hope you love this story as much as I did writing it! ♥︎

Valentine’s Day weekend. The one weekend you have to suffer through everything being doused in red, pink, and white decorations. It’s everywhere: across your work office, all around the city you live in, and even plastered around the hole-in-the-wall bar that all of your friends are drinking in now. 

It’s not one of your least favorite holidays, per se. But the intensity of it can be incredibly draining. The constant declarations of affection, the emotionally gooey visual representations of one’s desire for another person, it’s too much even for some of your own friends who are coupled up. 

The reality of your loneliness pushes your mood down just enough that staring down your third bottle of beer makes you yearn for another, despite your alcohol tolerance being less than stellar. And to make matters worse, it sucks to be surrounded by others’ happiness when you’re so alone in love and in love with someone too enmeshed in your life as a friend, rather than a person of romantic interest.

Wonwoo sits with Vernon and Soonyoung at the high-top bar, nursing tequila shots and Coronas without bothering to look back at the rest of your table of friends. Yes, you were all celebrating Soonyoung’s new promotion and Vernon finally nabbing a girlfriend in time for Valentine’s this year, and they only stalked off a few minutes ago to share a few drinks on their own, but you wish Wonwoo was sitting next to you again. 

You always mocked him for telling you to slow down. To drink water to avoid dehydration or to eat something to offset your alcohol intake. With all of his parroted wisdom that drives some of his closest friends crazy, you love him for it. You love him for a lot of reasons, really.

“Maybe you should just tell him, you know?” Seokmin says across from you, looking over at you from the rim of his Whiskey Sunrise. It’s a sickly shade of red, grenadine mixed in with the other ingredients to commemorate the holiday season. You wonder if it tastes like cough syrup, because it sure looks like it.

“You think I haven’t thought of that?” You ask with a slur, licking the remaining beer on your lips. “It’s not that easy to destroy seven years of friendship.”

“Come on. You act like nobody else has noticed when it’s plain as day, babe,” Seungkwan pipes up next to you, elbowing you softly in the ribs with an accompanying waggle of his eyebrows.

“And what is your best course of action, Dum and Dee?” You split your stare between both of your friends, your irritation peaking. “I just go over to that bar and confess everything to him. Then he’ll say he’s felt the same this entire time and we ride off into the sunset together?”

“One, you don’t need to be rude,” Seokmin responds. “Two, you don’t have to make it so dramatic. Get him alone tomorrow, maybe. Talk it out, see where it goes.”

“Exactly,” Seungkwan says. “It doesn’t need to be this big movie scene thing.”

“What movie?” Soonyoung asks, sitting back down next to Seungkwan and in front of his empty bowl of ramen. The other boys follow suit, Vernon alongside Seokmin and Wonwoo next to you once again.

It feels like torture and sanctuary in the same moment, so close but so far from what you wish the two of you could be.

“Nothing, just this documentary we all saw the other night,” you respond. You press your lips to your bottle again, pouting when the last droplets hit your tongue. “I’m gonna get another,” you say to nobody in particular. Wonwoo perks up once he notices you stumbling to get out of your chair.

“Not so fast,” Wonwoo says as you fall back into his arms. “I think I should get you home.”

“No, the night’s still young!” You whine into his jacket, your hair ruffling the skin on his neck. His chest rumbles with laughter, but nothing at the moment is funny to you. You don’t want to leave just yet, and he doesn’t need to treat you like a baby. “We still haven't even gone to karaoke.”

“Another night. Go sleep it off!” Vernon calls from behind you.

“You kids have fun!” Seokmin says with a conspiratory wink. You and Wonwoo walk towards the entrance of the bar, and you want to throw something at Seokmin to make your idiot best friend’s dumb smirk and even more ridiculous idea of confessing your feelings to your mutual friend blip out of existence.

Wonwoo has seen you at your lowest. He consoled you after you ran your car into a parked motorcycle when you were sixteen, your humiliation palpable the whole three hours you both waited for the police to show up. He’s held you in his arms after every failed romantic relationship, telling you it was always them and never you when it ended poorly. There’s nothing the two of you haven’t been there for each other for, no experience too vulnerable to share and overcome together.

But Wonwoo holding your hair in a makeshift ponytail as you throw up may just be the all-time low of your embarrassing moments. He whispers in your ear that you’re okay and rubs your back with a soft hand, and you feel all the worse for it. How could he ever love someone this prone to disaster, this cringeworthy?

“You should go home,” you cry into the toilet bowl. “I’m disgusting.”

Wonwoo says your name in a mocking tone, pretending to be serious but in no way critical of you or the situation. He takes off his plaid button up and throws it in some random corner of your bathroom, free to hold you as close as possible as you continue dry-heaving. “You’re not disgusting.”

“Of course you’d say that, you’re you.”

He laughs again, tucking what hair he can from your face so you can lift your head off of the toilet. “And what’s that?”

You look at him with puffy, half-open eyes. “Perfect.”

He helps you up from the tile floor and moves you to your bedroom on your weak legs. He sheds off your overshirt as you kick off your denim jeans. Your mind rumbles with a whirlpool of thoughts as his brain ruminates on the word you used when comparing himself to you.

“I’m in no way perfect, kid,” he whispers. The nickname he’s used on you forever feels like a backhand, a copious amount of salt in a wound you know will never heal. He’ll always see you at a distance from him, his feelings leagues away from yours.

“Don’t call me that,” you cry into your pillow, resting your cheek deep into the material to muffle the quiet sobs in your throat. He can’t be serious, talking to you so tenderly when you’re falling apart.

“Hey, can you look at me?” You shake your head and settle deeper into the pile of comforters and throw pillows. Wonwoo suddenly feels his gut turn into a dozen knots. He doesn’t know what’s wrong, how to fix it, or what to say to make things better, and it kills him. “Why are you acting like this?”

“Because you’re too perfect to love someone like me. But I love you so much, and it fucking sucks,” you hiccup, the darkness of your bed making you believe he’s not there, this isn’t real, and it’s okay to release all the words in your heart into the dark. “And every time I see those damn red and pink hearts all over the place, I think of you and I want to die.”

The force of your confession almost knocks Wonwoo on his ass. At the very least, he settles onto the desk chair near your bed and hears your whimpers give way to light snores.

He runs his hands through your hair again and tucks the covers up to your chin. He holds himself back from pressing a kiss to your forehead, the one thing he’s always done when you’ve passed out countless times before in his presence, but never recalled the next morning. This time, though, he prays you’ll remember your drunken admission.

“I hope you meant everything you said,” he whispers before retreating to your couch to fall asleep to the sounds of the cityscape below.

You wake up to low jazz playing from your living room TV and the smell of sizzling eggs. Each limb aches from the heavy sleep you fell under last night. You quietly pad out of your room to find Wonwoo cooking what looks to be the perfect mix of breakfast and hangover food. A makeshift Bloody Mary sits on the counter next to him, waiting for you.

Wonwoo turns when he senses you behind him, and he grins. “Hey, you’re awake. I was worried you’d be passed out until the afternoon. I wouldn’t blame you, though.”

You blush a shade deeper, still sporting your tank top and clad in a pair of boy shorts. You forgot you had taken your pants off before slipping into bed the night prior, but it isn’t the first time Wonwoo’s seen you half-clothed. You drink half of the concoction and set it down, your headache throbbing a little less. “How bad was I last night?”

He smirks. “Bad enough to throw up another three times.”

You groan into the back of your hand and hitch yourself up on the counter across from Wonwoo, his focus still on the over-medium eggs in the pan. “I’m sorry you had to take care of me again.”

“I wanted to,” he says without looking up at you. “I always want to be here when you need me.”

“I know, I know, it’s your job to say that,” you joke.

He drops the metal spatula next to him on the stove, and you jump up at the sound. He doesn’t look up, doesn’t say a word for a moment, and you’re unsure if he’s even breathing when you ask him if he’s okay. “So, you don’t remember then?” His question comes out almost like a statement, but the wavered edge of it proves he is concerned with whatever has slipped your mind.

“Woo, you’re freaking me out.”

He turns the stove to a low, simmering heat before facing you. His eyes look sad but expectant, waiting for the inevitable to come to you. “You really have no idea what I’m talking about?”

You tuck your hair behind your ear, and in that instant, you recall that last hour before you fell asleep. Wonwoo helping you into bed. Crying in your bed. And all the words that followed.

The memories bring tears to your eyes and your hands to your face. “Oh my god—”

Wonwoo takes your palms away and holds them to his mouth. “Stop running from me.”

“Don’t make me say it again, Woo, please.” Your bottom lip trembles. You fight every instinct to run from the kitchen and out of the apartment altogether, wanting to accept the continuous pain of hiding your feelings than the truth that this could be the end of the both of you as you know it, for better or worse.

“Fine, you don’t have to.” Wonwoo’s lips curl into that grin you’ve adored for almost a decade. “I’ll say what I need to first, then.”

He takes a deep breath and sets his jaw. “I’ve been in love with you since the minute you threw your ice-cream at that biker who almost clipped me in the foot on the way to school. Remember? I may have loved you long before that, but that’s the moment I realized.

“And I don’t want to lose you. I want to be more than just the guy you call your best friend. I want to be the only friend that matters, the friend that kisses you goodnight and tells you how beautiful you are because there’s no other way to describe you. I love you, too, kid, whether you realized it or not.”

A breathy yelp leaves your mouth before you kiss Wonwoo on the mouth. It’s a hard one, a clash of teeth and a bit of tongue, but you didn’t expect less from such an unexpected and perfect confession. Maybe this was the way you rode off into the sunset together. Sure, there was the smell of burning eggs instead of the sounds of a white stallion gallivanting off to the unforeseeable future, but it’s perfect. It’s yours.

Wonwoo shuts the burner off entirely before he takes you by the hand into your bedroom. When your bed is in full view, he kisses you long and slow. It’s nothing like the first kisses you shared a second ago, but it’s earth-shattering all the same.

You moan into his mouth when he presses a free hand to your breast, teasing the skin above your shirt until your nipple pebbles.

“Is this too fast?” He asks in a gruff voice. “We don’t have to do anything if you’re not comfortable, I just—”

You press a finger to his lips, effectively shutting him up. “If you do not take my clothes off right now and fuck me, I will never speak to you again.”

Wonwoo smirks and kisses you once more, only stopping to pull your tank top over your head and rip your underwear off of your legs. His fingers delve between your folds, and you shudder in his hold but refuse to let him take his hand away.

“You like this,” he whispers, the statement thick with his lust.

“Yes, it feels so good,” you whimper. You gasp when two of his fingers curl inside of you, his thumb still nestled on top of your clit to swirl around with the pad. The amount of pleasure he’s already given you is indescribable, and he hasn’t even truly done much yet.

You whine when he takes his hand away, but it’s to discard his own clothes and sit at the edge of your bed. He beckons for you to sit on top of him, and he doesn’t think twice about swirling himself between your essence and lining the head of his dick with your entrance. His tip is so swollen and covered in pre-cum, there’s no problem sinking it inside of your heat.

You share a mutual curse of pleasure when he bottoms out, his pelvic bone meeting your skin. You stay like that for a moment. You’re so full and unable to move from the size of him filling every empty space inside of you, you think this has to be a dream. Last night has not given way to day yet, and now is just a conjuring of your cruel mind. 

You get lost in your thoughts for so long Wonwoo brings his hand to your face and traces his fingers over your cheek, staring at you lovingly. “Where’d you go?”

You smile shyly and kiss his nose. “I just can’t believe this is happening.”

“I guess I’ll just have to remind you it’s real.”

He takes your ass between his hands and spreads you out before thrusting up inside of you, making you gasp hard. He moves long and slow underneath you, almost taking his cock out of your pussy completely before delving back into you.

“I want to give you everything,” he pants. “All that I have—will have—is for you. You know that, right?”

“Yes, fuck,” you whisper, meeting his hips with yours as you try to set your own pace, sinking down onto him with every thrust where your skin meets with loud smacks.

“I love you so much,” he says into your neck before biting down on your soft skin. You moan loudly and press yourself deeper and harder against him. His cock hits you at the perfect angle as you straddle him, and you feel the start of your climax deep in your stomach.

Seven years of missed opportunities. More than too many chances for days and nights like this spent together so intimately gone to the wind. It’s easy to be regretful for all the time that you’ve wasted without each other, but you realize it’s not wasted at all.

Every step, every thread of fate that tied you two together, brought you here. Whatever comes of today is just an extension of what has already existed in your hearts. So what more is there to ask for?

“Fuck, I’m so close,” he growls in your ear. His balls smack against your skin as he continues to slam into you. Tears spring in your eyes as he moves even harder, trying to take you both to your peaks together. “Where can I come, baby?”

“Inside of me. I want all of it, all of you. Please,” you beg. You bounce harder on top of him, circling your clit with your fingers to fall off the precipice with Wonwoo by your side.

“You want to feel all of me, yeah? So full of my cum it’s all you’ll think about?” He smirks and replaces the fingers on your clit with his own. “Maybe I’ll fuck a baby into you with how much cum I give you. Would you like that?”

You see stars behind your eyelids as you listen to the beautiful, dirty words on his lips. You nod vigorously, wanting nothing more than for him to claim you in this way. It’s all you’ve thought about for years, truthfully.

“God, I’m coming,” you say into his neck, thighs quivering as the rest of your body goes slack from the pleasure. Wonwoo grunts into the shell of your ear as he orgasms himself, his seed spilling into you so deep you think there’s no way any remnant of him will slip out.

When he takes himself out of you, he swirls the mixture of both of your releases on his fingers before you take those fingers into your mouth, sucking them dry.

Wonwoo chuckles and kisses you deeply, the taste of the two of you on both of your tongues. “That’s one way to end Valentine’s weekend, don’t you think?”

You giggle and kiss him on both cheeks, too eager to see the rest of your future together. “You could say that.”

@gyubakeries @loserlvrss @okiedokrie-main @brownbunnyb

𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 ౨ৎ˚₊

@kstrucknet @k-films @kvanity-main @lapydiaries @moadiarynet @/sweetvenomnet @onedoornet @deoboyznet @violetanet @whipped-kpop-creators

[maxivstappen]

THE GREATEST — TRUE BLUE

[ part one / masterlist / requests are open ]

☽｡⋆ part 2 of THE GREATEST. he tried to live without you, but how is one to survive with a broken heart? a story based on TRUE BLUE by billie eilish. — lando norris x fem!reader (could technically be read as a stand-alone)

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 angst, hurt & comfort, hints of fluff (?) 𝄞 4.1k words

❝ Lights out, you’re not here holding me ❞

Lando had never before felt the way he did the day you left him. Seeing you walk through that door, intending to never come back to him ever again, it pained him. It took him too long to realize how much he hurt you, and now he had to suffer the consequences. He swore it wasn’t on purpose, but when his friends told him that also the third girl he had brought along since you broke up with him resembled you in a way, he stopped denying. There was no use. The guys knew, the internet knew, he knew that he wasn’t yet over you. And he thinks he never will be. You left an empty place in his heart, a place that would forever be reserved for you only and you only. No matter how hard he tried to find someone else, no one would ever be able to replace you.

The girl he brought to the first race after the summer break was long forgotten already.

At first, everyone around him believed him when he said he felt happier now without you. But the moment he went back to his old ways, the heartbreaker they’ve known for so long, they realized he wasn’t. The girls always looked like you. He only rarely smiled anymore and he couldn‘t care less about his friends‘ relationships, even going as far as faking a gag or simply not coming to hang out with them at all. He said it’s because he needs to focus on racing. They knew it was because of you. Lando was yet to tell them why the relationship ended. He’d rather crash his car and DNF in every race for the rest of his life than to ever have to talk about the night you left ever again. He felt embarrassed and bad and was so terribly regretful. Only his parents knew the whole truth. He told them with tears caressing his face just like you once did, and seeing the disappointment in their eyes, he felt his heart rip apart even more. They had loved you so much, only waiting for the day he would finally go down on one knee for you, and now he messed it all up.

If he could just go back and make it all alright. Make you feel unconditionally loved wherever you went, make you happy, keep you happy. He would change it all if he just had the chance, but he knew you deserved better. Maybe one day, he could be better again.

He is ready to give up the very thing for you that had made you leave him that night if you’d ask him to. Racing would never again mean as much to him as you, though broken up, still do to him.

He was currently seated in his McLaren, waiting for the lights to go out so he could try his very best to overtake max at the start already. He should have his mind on the track. He shouldn’t think about you, not here. But like always, he couldn’t help it. He hoped to see you in the stands once he was able to get out of the car again. He hoped to see you wave and smile at him, run into his arms and let him kiss you all over, do all the things he had failed to do so many months ago. He knew it wouldn’t happen. He believed anyway. The lights went out and the cars began moving. He tried his best, he always did, but he wasn‘t afraid to lose anymore; for what was it worth to win a race when he had faced the greatest loss of them all already?

❝ I count every tear down my cheek instead of sheep ❞

You couldn’t sleep. You could never sleep while he was racing. Especially when he was on the other side of the world, which is why you went with him last season, and also at the start of this one. Maybe you never should’ve. Long distance was hard, but you managed. He felt farther away when he was still sleeping next you every night. At least when he didn’t send you off to sleep on the couch.

You tossed and turned in your sleep, but you didn’t dare to turn on the TV. It’s been months, you should try to live without him. Without seeing him. Without feeling for him. His races had nothing to do with you, neither did the outcome. And god, if he wins and you have to watch him kiss someone else again you might as well just take his racing car and drive right into the nearest wall. He’s so far away and yet, it didn’t make you love him any less. You huffed, fear slowly building up inside of you. You knew you shouldn’t do this, you had to wake up early tomorrow and really, it wouldn’t be that bad to miss a race once or twice, but you couldn’t help it. Reaching for the remote, your eyes were flooded with tears and your heart stung like never before when you saw him driving out there. You were rooting for him nonetheless. Just months ago you had watched the races from inside the McLaren hospitality, but now? All alone in your bed, anxiously following his every move. You would never fall asleep like this.

❝ Sleepwalk, find myself on your street. Three knocks, ring the bell, then I leave ❞

And there you stood high up in the stands the next weekend, head hanging low as you didn‘t want any fans of him recognizing you, back in his territory. You tried to ignore him, you really did, but your eyes kept following him around the paddock and didn’t leave him even while he was doing the quick interviews he had to do on his way there. And honestly, it kinda felt like home. Attending the races. Being near him. Being with him. You missed it more than anything else in the world, and you felt pathetic for it. He hurt you every way he could, and still, he didn’t hurt you enough to make you hate him. And you really wanted to hate him.

You went to the race together with one of your friends from uni. You bonded over formula 1 and your shared passion for the sport and quickly became very good friends. However, she had to leave soon, moving to another city for a better starting point for her career. Hence, you decided to save some money and go to a race together for the last time; for now, at least. You still remember the way she looked at you when you told her you were with Lando. The way you swooned over him to her, and the way you cried your eyes out when it all ended. You really thought you‘d be able to spend the rest of your life with him, and now all you had left of him were memories. She‘s known you long enough to immediately notice your longing after him the moment your eyes locked onto his dark brown curls. Your heart fluttered and it made you nauseous. One day this would stop, right? Your feeling must fade at least sometime, or was this all just wishful thinking? Could you not just get over him like everyone else got over their exes and start dating someone new?

Your heart ached. He was so close, not out of reach anymore, not on the other side of the world anymore, but still, there was no way of getting back to him, the crash barriers and the grandstand keeping you away, and it felt like the end of your relationship all over again, with him on the track and you sitting and waiting patiently on the sidelines, always at least an arm length distance between you two. You shouldn’t even want to get him back. You left out a sigh as he walked into the McLaren hospitality, finally out of sight. But still not out of mind.

Your friend huffed next to you, and finally decided to try and convince you to talk to him after the race while you were still in the same place, to get closure at last. You knew it must annoy your friends and maybe even your family that it was so hard for you to just move on. They put effort into understanding, but still, Lando wasn‘t good to you, at least not in the end. Many would treat you better, but you didn‘t seem to care. You quickly shook your head no, telling her how he probably didn’t want to talk to you and that catching him after the race would be nearly impossible, with bodyguards and tons and tons of interviewers and cameras around him.

The conversation ended soon after, as the lights went out and the drivers hit the gas. You pondered for a second, reconsidering your friend‘s suggestion, a weird feeling building up in your stomach. Maybe you shouldn’t even be here, maybe you should *leave* after the race and never look back. But to your dismay, every sense in your body was telling you to stay.

❝ I try to live in black and white but I’m so blue ❞

The race went well, but he didn‘t really care. Of course he was happy, the whole team was euphoric for their two drivers who secured place 2 and 4, huge smiles plastered on their faces. Once he was done with the post-race interviews he left to go back and get some rest inside his apartment, at least until the others came around to drag him to the afterparty, slandering from one club into the next one.

Everything felt so lonely without you. His bed was cold even when he was hidden under his blanket, and the dining room was nothing more than a reminder that he wasn‘t spending his evenings with you. Watching TV got boring. Everything got boring. He didn’t even know why he lost you anymore, he didn’t know what the hell it was that made him believe you weren’t made for him, making him believe there was actually something more important than you in this lifetime. You haunted his every thought, and even though he truly only wanted the best for you, deep inside him, he wanted you to still need him as well.

He stood in front of his bathroom mirror, gently buttoning up his shirt like you used to do, always leaving the 3 highest ones unbuttoned. He missed your touch, your eyes looking up at him and your hands always reaching for his. His arms would be wrapped around your waist and his head would be leaning on your shoulder, sneaking a few, small kisses up your neck as you changed your earrings for the night, the imagine of it painted onto your fast beating heart as you stood in front of the full-body mirror in your apartment, finishing up your accessoires. You wore a blue dress that covered your thighs, not reaching your knees. It hugged you in all the right places, accentuating your features. It used to be Lando‘s favourite, but you had no other alternative, not having brought any other dresses. Your friend insisted on going clubbing anyway, desperately wanting to finally get him off your mind for one night at least.

The other drivers were loud and happy and drunk and Lando sat next to them, staring at his already empty glass. He knew how this would go. At some point, either the drivers or one of their girls would tap his shoulder, saying they have a friend they think he would really like, and if he would like to be introduced to her. He would agree so they would finally keep their mouths shut, he would talk to the girl. Maybe they would kiss if he drank enough. Maybe he would take her home. Maybe he would think about you the whole time, maybe he would accidentally call her your name. Maybe he would wake up in the morning and would be happy that she‘d left, content with it only being a one-time thing and not meaning anything.

Because, in the end, nothing meant anything without you.

He pretended to laugh at the jokes of his friends, but really, none of this was fun to him. These nights were nothing more than a constant reminder of how he used to have his fun while you were waiting for him at home, cold and sad and alone. How could he be so stupid and leave you alone all the time? He doesn’t even know why he did it anymore. He yawned, very obviously not enjoying the party. Yes, it was nice seeing his friends so happy, the mood wasn’t as tense as it was around and on the track and the people inside the night club were vivid, dancing and drinking, seemingly having the time of their life downing countless beverages, but still, the happiness didn’t reach him.

“Dude, I think your girl‘s here.“ Oscar pushed him slightly, two vodka bull in hand for himself and Lily. Lando didn’t pay him any mind and rolled his eyes, not really in the mood for talking to any girl that isn’t you at the moment. Couldn’t they just give up? He wasn’t ready yet for someone else, he didn’t even know if he wanted to be with someone that isn’t you at all. Ever. Instead of arguing with Oscar about how he didn’t want to hear from any other girl right now, he went to get another drink as well.

He pushed through the dense crowd of people, navigating through the cacophony of laughter and piercing yelling that seemed to echo from all directions. The deafening loud music blasting through his ears made it difficult to focus, and the harsh sound of glass clunking together only added to it. The colorful LED lights rapidly switched from green to red to purple to yellow in a matter of seconds, creating a dizzying light show that overwhelmed his vision. This sensory onslaught of sounds, sights, and sensations overstimulated his senses, making each step forward feel like an effort.

Finally at his destination, he waited for the waiter or waitress, he wasn’t quite sure, to get his order. He wasn’t certain what his plan was that night at all. Sleeping around or not, you wouldn’t stop haunting his mind anyway, so was it really worth it? Getting drunk and trying to make his nights feel less lonesome? Or should he just wait and really focus on his carrer again until maybe, one day, you’d come back?

He ignored the possibilty of you not coming back at all.

He let his eyes wander around the scene unfolding in front of him, occasionally making eye contact with random girls who winked at him and tried to get his attention, but he didn’t pay them any mind. Frustration started to bubble up inside of him as the wait for his drink seemed to go on for forever, until suddenly, his heart skipped a beat.

Lando was certain that in a room full of people, he would always be able to notice you first. He pondered if it was you whenever he‘d walk by a girl with the same hair colour as you, immediately dismissing the thought when he saw a face that didn’t match yours just a second later. But this time, it was different. The hair ressembled yours without a doubt, and of course he remembered the dress he had bought for you so long ago; never once had he been able to keep his hands to himself when you wore it. The height matched you perfectly as well. But it couldn’t be you, right?

Oscar‘s words replayed in his mind and he finally understood what he meant. Who he meant.

It was really you.

You tried to enjoy the party, but you really weren’t doing so well. Your friend had left you near the bar, thinking you’d be hitting it off with a guy you’ve been talking to for some time, but that wasn’t the case. he left just five minutes after to go home, asking if you’d like to come with him. You denied, but your friend was nowhere to be found, having found someone in this club herself. It was scary being alone in a club full of drunk, intoxicated people, even more so when you sensed someone staring at you from behind. You didn’t have to worry about things like that when you were still with Lando, with him always stuck to your side, a protective arm hanging around your shoulders. you shuddered at the thought, and dared to turn around to find the very person who was looking at you so steadily.

And then you locked eyes.

The world suddenly went quiet. All the chaos, the noise, it all faded into the background, no sound to be heard other than the synchronised, rapid beating of your heart. It seemed as if the only two people in that room were you and him, only the void surrounding the two of you. The LEDs turned blue, engulfing you and him, the light accentuating your features and he couldn’t move even if he wanted to, stuck in a trance of what this could mean for him in the future; what this could mean for you both. Time seemed to stand still. He wanted to run to you, to hold you, to tell you how much he missed you, but his feet felt like they were glued to the floor. His breath hitched and so did yours, all the yearning, all the longing hitting you and him at lightspeed.

You walked towards him, each step filled with electricity. The tension was palpable, his mouth agape as you stood in front of him, only centimeters away from closing the gap between you. There was so much he wanted to say, so many things he wanted to apologize, so many things he wanted to make right, but he didn‘t dare to say things first, afraid too scare you off. The last thing he wanted is for you to leave him again.

“I didn‘t know you‘d be here, thought I‘d seen Oscar but I wasn‘t sure,“ you started, stumbling over your own words, laughing awkwardly, then biting your lip right after. He noticed, because you always did that when you were nervous; you’d done it too when you broke up with him. You wanted to blame it on the alcohol, but that would be a lie, one he could look right through of. You just couldn‘t process actually being in his presence again.

“You still wear the dress?“

“It‘s, uhm, quite pretty, so yeah.“ You nodded along to your own words, gulping at the tense and awkward silence right after, looking down at your shoes, the sight of him in this light still not leaving your mind. Maybe he didn‘t even feel the same way, maybe he didn‘t even want to talk to you. Maybe you already made a fool of yourself when you made your way over to him, maybe you really should‘ve just stayed at home. But at the same time, this is what you‘d hoped for this whole time. To finally see him again.

“I‘m so sorry for what I did to you, y/n, please believe me. E-Ever since you left, I couldn‘t stop thinking about you. Not once. I tried to move on, y‘know, would probably be better for you as well, ‘cause you deserve better than how I‘ve treated you at the end and I don‘t want to have to put you through that again but I just- I miss you so much, I don‘t know what to do! And now you‘re here and I swear I‘ve been waiting for a moment like this and-,“ he stopped for a second, heavy and shaky breaths filling the silence, „If giving up racing means you‘ll let me come back to you, I‘ll do it.“

Your teary eyes widened and you looked up at him again, staring into his. One could take it as an empty promise. But you knew better than anyone else that Lando wasn’t one to joke about racing, ever. “Lando you can’t just- I- I mean, racing? It didn‘t work before Lan I just- don‘t give up your dreams for me, please? You shouldn‘t, you have so much ahead of you still,“ you sighed out, every single part of your body overwhelmed like never before.

But Lando was certain. He traced every yet so small feature of your face and body with his eyes, and he knew in that exact moment that, no matter what, he could never lose you again. Not this time. Not when fate hat somehow brought you together once again, giving him a second chance to make it all better. Question was now if you’d let him have that second chance too.

He lifted his hand to gently wipe away the tear running down your cheek, having you lean into his familiar touch. “I’ll do it for you”, he said, and that was when you broke apart, legs feeling numb and wobbly suddenly. Tears streamed down your face as you took another step forward and he wrapped his arms around your body out of reflex, gently placing soft kisses on top of your head, tearing up as well as your cried into his chest.

Maybe it was bad, maybe you shouldn’t feel like this again, but you’ve never once after the breakup felt as at peace with yourself and your as you did now, even if you were in a loud and busy club, surrounded by drunk and high people. You managed to push them to the back of your mind, the familiar scent of Lando’s perfume calming your senses. It felt like home. Maybe he really did owe you something, and though you once were anguished because of it, you wouldn’t ever deprive him of the joy of racing. There would be a way through it without having to abandon any of your or his dreams. There must be if you want it to work out, and you were sure that this time, it would. And so was he.

Lando took you home with him that night, not before you shot your friend a quick text message, afraid she might think you were kidnapped or whatnot. You knew that you’d have to fly home again in two days. He knew that too, but there was no need to rush things anyway. You were still his and he was still yours, and that’s all that mattered for now. It’s gonna be weird explaining this to your friends and your family, but neither of you minded it as long as it meant you could be with each other again. You would have to talk things through and see how you’d manage the race weekends and the events and the media - but not now. Now, with you calmly and lightly snoring in his arms, he didn’t care about any of that, simply content with having you again.

He promised you before you drifted off into your tranquil slumber that he will make it right this time. He will be there for you no matter what, he will defend you and take you with him and show you off and love you like already should have done all these months ago. This time, he will put in the work and the appreciation and the effort, and then, you will finally be able to be the greatest.

❝ I’d like to mean it when I say I’m over you, but that’s still not true. ❞

taglist for part 2 of the greatest : @mrs-saturday @tylerstacobell @angeltroian @acesbakery @directioner5life @malynn @escuellasceramicdollie @strangetoadroadbat @norrisdriver @aliceisnuts @carlando4 @f1fantasys @no-144444 @belivisa @callsignwidow @cruzgrecia @ifsoniacouldfly @wony6ung @hurtblossom @faeriepigeons @interlagos @xnatqq @fanficweasley @youreintheclubb @chaimaarouaine11 @idgasb @cruzgrecia @madstxo @trisharee (basically everyone who commented vv sorry if you didn’t want to be tagged!)

[charliedawn]

Hi! Could I request a Five hargreeves fluff of any kind, I just watched season 4 of umbrella academy and I wanted a litte Five fluff.☺️

(Here you go ! Hope you’ll like it ! 😁👍)

Five had been cooped up in his office for days—barely eating to survive as he desperately tried to find a way to save the world and his family. His head was overwhelmed and he hadn’t slept in more than 24 hours. He was exhausted, frustrated and angry at himself for not finding some answer or equation to make it all better. He stared at all the papers with all the notes and calculations he had written down. He stared at them and felt the anger bubbling up inside him…until it burst.

He suddenly screamed in rage and threw all the papers on his desk to the floor.

"Why can’t I get it ?! Why can’t I find anything ?!"

He slumped down on his chair and raked his fingers through his hair. He wanted to teleport away—far away. But he knew that no matter how far he went, he couldn’t escape. He sighed and looked up at the ceiling…How could he save the world when he couldn’t even find the answer to a simple equation. No matter how many times he replayed the multiple endings in his history, he couldn’t save the world without…

He closed his eyes and was on the verge of tears.

…without sacrificing one of his siblings.

He would have happily sacrificed himself but then, there would be no way to ensure results. To make sure the end of the world never came. He then thought about Sir Hargreeves. The old man who had decided to put them all in this tricky mess and bail on them. That…coward. He felt more anger and resentment towards the old man. Anger and resentment he wanted to get rid of by punching or killing somebody. He was about to do just that when he saw someone standing in his office.

Y/N.

What were you doing here ?

"Get out, Y/N. Now, is not the time." He tried to dismiss you, but you didn’t move. You simply took a few steps towards him—a box in your hands. He ignored the box and just started glaring at you.

"Didn’t you hear me ?! I said—!"

"I heard you." You replied and Five blinked twice in astonishment. He then sighed and forced himself to smile.

"Fine. What can I do for you, Y/N ?" He asked with a sarcastic grin on his face. You looked at him and could tell that something was wrong and instead of answering, you approached even closer and put the box of cookies on his desk. He frowned and took one before looking back up at you with a skeptical raised eyebrow.

"Really ? Cookies ?"

You smiled and shrugged.

"I needed someone to taste them. Make sure they are good."

Five rolled his eyes.

"Y/N. Your power is to heal people with your cooking. Of course it is good, you literally cannot bake ANYTHING bad."

You kept your smile and shrugged again.

"Who knows ? Maybe you will find the taste different this time ?"

He kept himself from rolling his eyes a second time and just took a bite—knowing that it was the only way for you to scurry off and leave him to his mumbling and brooding.

"See ? Like I said, perf—." He started, but suddenly paused.

He chewed. He paused. He chewed again.

He frowned a little before licking his lips—his brow furrowed in concentration. He took a second bite. A third.

Then, when the cookie was gone, he looked at you. He was obviously puzzled.

"This…wasn’t one of your healing cookies." He finally said.

You grinned and nodded.

"You’re right. I tried a new recipe. You like it ?"

Five stared at you before taking a second.

"It’s…fine. I guess…"

He took a third.

And a fourth.

And a fifth.

And in a matter of minutes, all the cookies were gone.

He stared at the empty box and his heart suddenly felt…lighter. He sighed contentedly and leaned back in his chair—his eyes slowly closing. It felt like the days of baited exhaustion were finally taking their toll on him. You smiled and covered him with a blanket.

You took the empty box…looks like the new recipe was a success.

You smiled to yourself. You were about to leave when you suddenly felt someone grab your arm from behind and before you knew it—the empty box was on the floor and Five had his arms around you.

"…Thank you." He mumbled sleepily.

You were momentarily stunned before smiling and turning around to hug Five back.

"No problem."

You then stayed in each other’s arms until you both fell asleep. You didn’t need words to calm down Five, you had only ever been kind and patient with him. You took care of each other and that was perhaps the reason he trusted you so much. Because he knew that whatever happened, you would be there to hold him and reassure him that everything would be alright.

[badkitty3000]

It's A Wonderful Life, Five Hargreeves

So, I got two asks today about Christmas stories:

**are you going to put your other Christmas story on here? Not trying to be pushy it's just easier to read them on here and I saw you linked others. I love your stories btw :⁠-⁠**

and

*I loved your Santa Five story. Would you be willing to do another like it? Something for the season? 🙏🙏🙏*

So, first of all, thank you so much to both of you! Wow! I was assuming the first ask was about this story? This is a multi-chapter one I wrote a year ago on AO3. It's a cross between It's A Wonderful Life and A Christmas Carol, with Five getting a visit from his guardian angel after he's not doing well without his powers in Reggie's new world, post-season 3 (written before season 4 came out). I will post it below.

In regards to the other ask, I won't be writing any new ones most likely this season, but I do have a couple other one-shots that were part of a series and that @kaybreezy3000, who is the co-author on them, and I are currently working on to make them into reader-inserts for tumblr. Those should be posted soon.

Thank you again and I hope you enjoy this sexy, sad, but sweet with a happy ending Five story! Have a wonderful holiday everyone! Cheers!

A Five x Female OC, 22k words, multi-chapter, cross-posted on AO3 from 2023

Warnings: Explicit sex, rough/angry sex, but also sweet sex, little bit of daddy kink

Chapter One: Candy

Number Five does not believe in God, or Heaven, or Religion as a whole. He knows what Klaus has told him, about the Void, and he knows he’s not lying. It’s just that Five is a man of science and logic, and he operates on proven theories and facts. He figures whenever he dies someday, if there is something to see, then and only then will he develop a belief system. He doesn’t really see the point in speculating about something that is inevitable anyway.

So, if someone were to tell him that guardian angels really existed, he’d laugh in their face. He’d ask for proof; solid evidence on which they could base this claim. And when they couldn’t produce any, he’d smirk in that knowing way, basking in the glow of always being right.

There was just one tiny flaw with not believing in the existence of angels, however, and that was the very real presence of the one currently lying naked in his bed.

🪽❤️🪽❤️🪽❤️🪽❤️🪽❤️🪽❤️🪽❤️

The seedy bar was mostly empty, occupied by only a few sad and lonely patrons that had nowhere better to go. The lone bartender looked about as despondent as his customers as he mindlessly poured the cheap whiskey and beer that they asked for. A few strands of red and white lights hung over the bar, casting a reddish glow over the dirty countertop, and someone had set up a sparsely decorated tree in the corner. Somehow, those small attempts at cheeriness just made the place feel more depressing. The jukebox playing “Blue Christmas” for the third time in a row wasn’t helping, either.

Five sat in a booth near the back wall, the table in front of him wobbling periodically on its mismatched legs. He was on his fourth drink. Or maybe it was five. He had lost count and frankly didn’t care either way. He sat staring wistfully across the table, lost in his own dark thoughts.

Along with the number of drinks that he had consumed, somewhere along the line Five had also lost count of the number of years he’d been on the planet. He thought he was around 63, but then once you factor in all of the time travel, who knows exactly. Well, actually, he should know. He was the genius, or so he had thought. Calculating his age shouldn’t exactly be a brain buster. Whatever it was, he was still younger than he felt, which was about a million years old.

Not that it mattered, really. He was here now, in this timeline, with no powers and nothing much to show for all of the effort he’d put into trying to save the world. The world was still standing, he supposed, but how much of that was him and how much of it was Reginald?

Five years had passed since he and his siblings had been dumped into this fucked up, dystopian world created by his former adopted father. He refused to think of him as anything other than an alien in human skin that used them all as living batteries and abandoned them without powers. What a giant dick.

Having no idea where to go or what to do was bad enough, but to be suddenly without the power that had coursed through his body his entire life was a real fucking drag. It took Five at least six months before he stopped trying to blink away from things or teleport as a mode of transportation.

He’d narrowly missed getting run over by cars several times, and got his face beaten in more than once for running his mouth to the wrong people and then not having an exit strategy. He could still fight, but it was a lot harder without time and space manipulation on your side. Even now, every so often, he found himself staring down at his clenched fists in surprise when his body automatically tried to jump and nothing happened.

Not surprisingly, Five had found it difficult to adapt to normal life. Part of this was the years spent in isolation and not really having a good foundation for living a normal life in the first place. He had been told, on several occasions, that he lacked “basic social skills”, and was “surly” and “borderline psychotic”, whatever that meant. If people couldn’t deal with his attitude, so what? He wasn’t exactly dying to make new friends, thank you very much.

He and his brothers had managed to stick together, despite a rocky start. And as much as he hated to admit it, he did love them, even if they were astonishingly infantile and annoying. He no longer had a sister, or at least one that he acknowledged. Allison was off living her best life, probably laughing at all of them. But the rest of them, they were ok. And they were all Five had.

All things considered, the past five years had been decent to his siblings. They still struggled with having their powers stripped, just like Five did, but overall, they were doing much better than he was. Diego and Lila had started a new life together, and now had an almost five-year old daughter. The fact that the two dimmest people on the planet were responsible for another human life was astounding, but despite all odds his niece was actually a delight to be around and insanely smart. Luther had found Sloane, although it did take a couple of years. He never gave up hope, and eventually he found her, convinced her to fall in love with him again, and they were now married for a second time.

Viktor probably had the most successful turn-around out of all of them and had moved a few miles outside of the city where he had opened his own music school exclusively for trans kids. Five didn’t see him that much anymore, but they talked about once a week on the phone. As time went on, though, Five found they had less and less to talk about.

Klaus was still Klaus, albeit much happier. With no more ghosts tormenting him, he had found he had no reason to go back to hard drugs anymore. He still liked to grab an occasional drink with Five, but overall, he was sober and doing well. At least, Five assumed he was doing well. He actually had no idea what the hell he did for money, but he always seemed happy and well cared for. Maybe he had a sugar daddy or an old lady somewhere that took care of him. Five never asked and Klaus never volunteered.

Ben (the asshat version) was still around, but he kept his distance most of the time. He had tried to go crawling back to their dad at the over-the-top skyscraper that bore his name, but was quickly dismissed by security staff, saying that Reginald Hargreeves had no children. Ben had been obviously hurt and embarrassed, but since he never really considered himself part of the Umbrella family, he went off by himself. Occasionally he would check up on Sloane, though.

So, that left Five. There were only two things from his father that Five could say he was thankful for. One was that, on top of giving him his arm back, he had also added on a few years to his body when the universe was reset, so that Five had been 18 when they emerged into Oblivion Park. The other was that all of the siblings had found a bank card in their pockets, giving them access to individual bank accounts with a few thousand dollars in them, allowing them a chance to start a new life.

Five still lived in the small, crappy apartment he had found and rented back then. He could afford a better place now, but he didn’t see the point in moving. It was just himself there and anything with a roof over his head and simple furnishings still felt like a luxury. He didn’t have a job like the rest of his brothers, but he did have a steady income. Right from the start, he took half the money from Reginald and made investments that paid off nicely. The thought of working some dead-end office job at his age made him cringe, so he was perfectly happy to play the stock market from the comfort of his living room.

With no need for a car in the city, and no interest in a fancy apartment or house, Five had plenty of disposable income. Most of it was spent on his family, particularly his niece, who he liked to spoil as often as he could. He loved watching her face light up when he brought her a present and she was about the only person he would tolerate and enjoy hugs from. It made him happy to see her happy, with the added bonus of pissing Lila off by being her daughter’s favorite uncle.

The rest of his money went to his wardrobe. Afterall, what was the point in having a trim, young body again if you didn’t put in an effort to showcase it? Between his school boy Academy uniform, scrounging for clothes in the Apocalypse, and the drab Commission-issued suits he’d had to wear throughout his life, he was finally getting a choice in his style. And while that was a small victory in the scheme of things, his finely tailored and expensive suit collection was one of his only pleasures in life.

Five had tried to fix things, in the beginning. He had tried to figure out what Reginald’s end game was and how to take him down once and for all. Luther and Diego even got the taste for revenge, and for a while they were a small team. But after that first year, they determined it was fruitless. There was no way to get to Reggie, up there in his tower. He owned the city, literally. And without their powers, his forgotten children were no threat. Five never really gave up, though. He knew there had to be a way; he just couldn’t figure it out. Even now, it’s always there in the back of his mind.

With his family off living their lives as best they could, Five was alone. Which you would think he would have been used to by now, but this time seemed different. Five had gotten used to having his siblings around again. Even if they were obnoxious and had the collective IQ of a fruit fly. He had liked talking to them, and fighting alongside them again. He had even liked fighting with them again. After all, everything he had ever done was for them.

Five knew that he needed to open himself up more. It’s not like they didn’t try to have a closer relationship with him. But he remained closed off for the most part, often alone. He knew the reason, too. He was angry. Angry at Reginald for landing them there, angry at the Handler and The Commission, who had really screwed him over. Or maybe he screwed himself over, he still wasn’t sure how that worked. But most of all, he was angry with himself. And that anger was so big and so raw, that it was always threatening to burst out at any moment. So, it was just better that he kept to himself.

The same went for relationships outside of his family. They were constantly bothering him about dating or finding someone to settle down with. While they were all a little fucked up in the head, and maybe had some major daddy issues, Five knew he was different. He wasn’t blind to women, despite what his brothers thought. He’d even tried to date a few. But there was too much baggage, too many secrets. And that was not even including the mind/body age difference, which was a whole other complication to add to the mix.

Because of the constant turmoil inside, Five hadn’t let himself get close to anyone. The last few “relationships” he’d had were nothing but one-night stands that he’d barely remembered the next day. And even those left him feeling guilty and even worse than he had before. Because what would Dolores say if she knew?

He had worked so fucking hard for everything, and for what? One time when he was drunk, he had asked Klaus that same question. Klaus had told him that he had saved them; that he had technically achieved what he had wanted, just maybe not in the way he had envisioned. But Five had just laughed and poured another drink. They didn’t get it.

So, there he sat, alone on Christmas Eve, at a shit bar, drinking shit booze, and wondering what the fucking point was. He just couldn’t find a purpose anymore.

His phone buzzed in his pocket and he groaned when he saw the caller ID, but he answered.

“Hi, Diego.”

“Hey, where are you? I thought you were going to come over for dinner tonight. Everyone is going to be here.”

“I can’t. I have plans,” Five answered dryly, his glass raised halfway to his mouth.

“Bullshit. You don’t have any plans, you just don’t want to come.”

“If you know that, then why did you ask?”

Diego sighed heavily on the other end and Five took another drink. Then he heard some shuffling and a small voice screamed into the phone, making Five wince and pull it away from his ear.

“Hi, Uncle Five! Are you coming over? Are you bringing me a present?”

“Grace!” Diego scolded. “Stop screaming into the phone, and also that’s not polite.”

The girl ignored her father and continued talking loudly with her mouth way too close to the phone.

“My mom said you’re being a grumpy twat. What’s a twat?”

Five couldn’t help smiling. “It means a really cool person.”

“Ohhh! Ok. Well, I hope you’re coming for dinner and I hope you’re going to come over and watch me open presents tomorrow morning, too. It’s Christmas tomorrow!”

“I know, Gracie, and I did get you a very nice present. I just don’t know if I’ll be able to be there tomorrow morning.”

“Why?”

“Because I might be doing something else.”

“Why?”

“Because I just am.”

“But why?”

Five ran a frustrated hand down his face. “Can you put your dad back on please?”

“Ok. DAD!”

Five pulled the phone away again before he went permanently deaf in that ear.

“Ok, here’s my dad. Hey dad, you’re a twat!”

Five laughed loudly, unlike his brother.

“What the fuck, Five? If we get a call from the school saying she’s calling the other kids twats I’m giving them your number.”

“Lila started it.”

“Jesus, you two. Anyway, are you coming over or not?”

“Not.”

“You’re kind of being an asshole.”

“This is not new information to you, Diego.”

“Fine. Well, Merry Christmas or whatever. Have fun drinking alone.”

“Thanks.”

They hung up and Five set his phone down, lifting his glass back up. He shook his head. “Fuck, I really am an asshole,” he muttered to himself.

As Five sat there, contemplating when he had become such a jerk, a waitress came over. He hadn’t noticed any waitress before, just the bartender. But she sidled up next to his table and he looked up.

“Can I get you something, handsome?”

Five blinked at her a few times. She was extremely pretty, with long, thick black hair, dark eyelashes and full, red lips. But that wasn’t the only thing that caught Five’s eye. She was dressed head to toe in what he could only describe as a slutty elf outfit. An extremely short, flared green skirt with red trim, and a tight red shirt that buttoned up the front. The neckline was so low and her tits were pushed up so high that Five was honestly perplexed at how she was keeping them from just spilling out altogether. The red headband in her hair was adorned with tiny bells that jingled anytime she moved her head. A brief vision of that headband jingling loudly as it banged against his headboard passed through his mind, but he was in no mood for company tonight. Not to mention, she was probably half his age.

The waitress smiled down at Five and spoke again after she received no response. “Did you want anything?”

Five looked back down at his half-full glass. “No, I’m all set.”

“Are you sure? There’s nothing you want that I can get for you?”

Five sighed, annoyed with her persistence, and flashed her his best fake smile. “Nope. All good.”

She pursed her lips and put a hand on her hip. “What are you doing here on Christmas Eve? You seem way too classy to be hanging out in this dump. Don’t you have a family to go home to?”

Five looked up at her, his eyebrows drawn together in irritation. “Not that it’s any of your business, but no, I don’t have a family. I’m here to drink and be left alone.”

She nodded thoughtfully, then looked around the bar again. “It’s pretty slow tonight. Mind if I join you?”

“What part of alone did you not understand?”

Pretending like she either didn’t hear him or didn’t care, the girl shrugged her shoulders and plunked herself down in the chair across from Five, her headband jingling. He gritted his teeth together.

“If you don’t have a family, then who were you talking to just now?” she pried.

“Are you always this annoying to everyone, or am I just special?”

She shrugged again, unaffected by his insult. “I just overheard you talking and saying you didn’t want to go somewhere. Was that your family? Did they want you to come over for Christmas?”

Five slammed his glass down. “Jesus! Look, I don’t know what your angle is here, sweetheart, but I just want to be left alone. Go bother someone else.”

“I don’t have an angle. And my name’s not sweetheart. It’s Candy.” She extended her hand out to Five, which he promptly ignored.

“Candy?” he asked, eyebrows raised. “That’s a little cliché, isn’t it? Even for made up names.”

“It’s not made up! That’s my real name. Candy.”

“So, what’s your last name, Cane?”

She laughed, moving her head so the bells jingled. It wasn’t a funny joke and Five wasn’t being nice to her, so he had no idea why the hell she was still sitting there with him and laughing, of all things. He looked down at his glass, which was now empty from when he sloshed it all over the table.

‘No, silly. We don’t have last names where I’m from,” she answered with a giggle.

Five chose not to address that odd statement. “Well, then, Candy , looks like I could use another drink after all. And since you apparently have no other customers at the moment, would you mind grabbing that for me?” Five picked up the empty glass, waving it in the air to demonstrate the emptiness as he smirked at the waitress.

She frowned. “Are you sure you need another drink?”

Five rolled his eyes. “You just asked me ten seconds ago if I wanted anything!”

“Maybe I wasn’t talking about a drink,” she smiled, leaning forward so that her ample cleavage was even more on display.

As aggravated as Five was by her, his eyes were still drawn to her chest. Because of the buzz he had going, too, his look wasn’t exactly inconspicuous. She noticed and ran her hand across her collarbone, drawing attention to the delicious looking divot between her clavicle and neck as she brushed her hair off her shoulder. He tried not to think about what it would be like to run his tongue across that very spot.

Five leaned back against the booth, his arm slung across the back of it. “Thanks, but no thanks. Not interested.”

Candy pulled back in shock, even though she was still smiling. “I find that a little hard to believe, but that’s ok. My feelings aren’t hurt. As much as I would love to get inside those tight pants of yours, I can take a hint.”

Five leaned in again, speaking through clenched teeth. “Then if you aren’t getting in my pants, and you aren’t going to bring me a drink, I think our little conversation here is done.”

For the first time since she’d wandered over, Candy looked a little bit at a loss of what to do. Then she smiled again and stood up. “Ok, one more drink, I’ll be right back.”

When she turned to walk away, she glanced down at the black suede ankle boots she had on. One of the laces had come undone and she bent over, directly in front of Five, not even trying to hide what she was doing. Underneath the miniscule skirt, were an even smaller pair of red and white panties, striped like a candy cane. They were cut in a way that showed off a good portion of her ass and Five found himself staring yet again. He was also very glad she was not looking at him right then, because as he was caught in the tractor beam that was her tight little rear end, he licked his lips and let out a puff of air.

“Damn,” he murmured, hopefully quietly enough that she didn’t pick up on it.

She righted herself and looked over her shoulder with a grin before she set off to get his drink. Just as Five was imagining a hypothetical scenario involving those panties and his teeth, she appeared in front of him again, fresh drink in hand. When she handed it over to him, Five paused.

“Where did you..how did you get over here so fast?”

She shrugged again, and Five found that just that small action of her shrugging was really starting to get on his nerves. In her hand was her own drink of some sort and she took a generous sip.

“I’m a really good waitress, I guess.”

“Huh.” Five eyed her curiously as he lifted the glass to his lips.

Without any invitation, Candy dropped herself onto Five’s lap, her legs swinging to the side. Five gave her what he intended to be a very murderous glare, but considering her perky round tits were right under his face, it didn’t have the same effect that it normally did. He kept his hands at his sides, not touching her in any way, but he also didn’t push her off. Because her skirt was so short, he knew that the only thing between her and his lap were those little striped panties. He could feel the warmth of her thighs seeping through onto his. She may have been annoying as fuck, but he still had a brain and a dick, and sometimes those two things got very confused about which one was in charge.

“So, if you’re not spending time with your family tonight, what are your plans?”

“To finish this drink, stagger home, and pass out in my bed. If I’m lucky, maybe I won’t wake up until Christmas is over,” he answered.

“Well, that sounds terrible. Why would you want that? Don’t you like Christmas?”

Five shifted in his seat, the irritating jingling of bells now closer to his ears. “I used to.”

Candy nodded with a small frown. Then she placed a hand on his chest. “Maybe I can help you like it again.”

Five lifted his eyes to hers, raising one eyebrow.

“I’ll let you roast your chestnuts over my open fire,” she purred with a grin.

He rolled his eyes. “Subtle. But, even after that cute show you put on for me a minute ago, and this little stunt you’re pulling right now, I’ll be going home alone this evening.”

She stuck out her bottom lip, shiny and wet with lip gloss and her drink. She traced one finger down the side of his neck and over the buttons of his white dress shirt. “That’s a shame. I was really hoping you’d have a special package for me to unwrap later.”

One side of Five’s mouth curled up and his jaw twitched as he took another drink, trying to decide how drunk he was and how much of a hassle it would be to get rid of this girl in the morning. He leaned in closer, placing a hand lightly on the small of her back.

“Sweetheart, I would shove my package down your chimney so hard and so deep, you’d still be feeling it by New Year’s. But that’s not going to happen tonight, I’m afraid.”

She laughed and then nodded, like she hadn’t expected him to say anything less. “I just thought maybe I could remind you how wonderful Christmas is. And maybe how to enjoy yourself a little more and stop closing yourself off to everyone.”

With narrowed eyes, Five lowered his glass that had been midway to his mouth. “What the hell are you talking about? You don’t know anything about me.”

“I know a lot about you, Number Five. And I know that your family loves you and they wish you could have a full and happy life.”

Five’s hand flew up and he grabbed her wrist, pulling her forward and squeezing it hard.

“How do you know my name?” he hissed in her face.

The girl only smiled again. “I’m your guardian angel, Five.”

He clamped down harder onto her wrist and roughly jerked her towards him again. “Cut the shit. Who are you? What do you want? Do you work for Reginald Hargreeves?”

She had the audacity to laugh, those fucking bells ringing again. “Of course I don’t work for your father. Like I told you, my name is Candy and I’m your guardian angel. And I’ve been sent here to make sure you know what a wonderful life you could have here, Five. If only you could let yourself.”

“I don’t know who the fuck you are, or what you want with me, but you have seriously underestimated what I could do to you right now.”

“Oooh, I would love to find out all the things you could do to me,” she said, still not trying to pull her arm away or move off his lap. “I bet you could really put me on the naughty list.”

“How about this? If you don’t get away from me right this second, I snap that pretty little neck of yours?” he growled, digging his fingers into her wrist.

Candy sighed, rolling her eyes skyward and talking out loud to the empty air above her, gesturing to Five with her hand that held her drink. “I know, I know…you warned me. This is going to be a tough one, like you said, but I still think he’s hot, though.”

Five shoved her roughly off his lap and stood up, pushing the table back with a loud screech. “Since you know all about me, then you should know what I’m capable of. So, keep that in mind; because if I ever see your face again, you’ll get to witness it firsthand. Now get out of my way.”

He shouldered past her, out of the bar, and into the cold night air. All around him, just like every other day and night for the past five years, he saw the glowing signs bearing his last name. He paused and took in the giant Hargreeves Enterprises building that loomed over the whole city. The first few snowflakes of the night had started to fall, landing in his hair and onto his eyelashes. With another look back at the bar, he hurried off down the sidewalk. His apartment wasn’t that close, and he had forgotten his coat inside the bar, but he didn’t care. He needed to walk and clear his head and try to figure out what the hell just happened back there.

Five knew the girl had to have been sent by someone. But who? And why? Maybe she was sent from another timeline, here to stop him from doing something that will affect the future. But she didn’t say that. She said she wanted to help him, which made no fucking sense. Then, to matters more fucked up, how the fuck did she know how he felt about things?

After a few more blocks, Five came to a bridge that spanned over a large river. He stopped halfway across, nearing the icy rail and peering down at the roiling and freezing water below. It was windy on the bridge, and he bent his head against the falling snow. He remembered how a year ago, he’d stood in that very same spot, looking down. He had been drunk and in a dark place, just like he was now. He hadn’t gone through with it then, and he wasn’t going to do it now, either. After everything he’d been through and survived, it seemed like a pretty stupid way to end things.

Five huffed out a short laugh, speaking into the empty dark night. “Guardian angel my ass. If that were true, where the fuck were you when I was wasting away in the Apocalypse? At least then I could have had something else to fuck besides my hand.”

“I was there with you, Five, but you didn’t need me then. You do now, though, and you’re much too hot to just be flinging that body of yours over the side of a bridge.”

Five pulled the gun he was carrying out from his waistband, spun around, and pressed the barrel into the side of the girl’s head, clicking off the safety. She gasped a little, but otherwise didn’t seem afraid. She had thrown on a red, faux fur coat over her skimpy outfit, but it remained open, blowing in the wind.

“Why are you following me?” he yelled, a little more frantically than he had intended.

“I don’t know how many times I can tell you, Five. I’m your guardian angel.”

“Forgetting for a moment that angels don’t exist; if they did, I highly doubt they would look like you.”

She stuck her bottom lip out in a pout. “Why? What’s an angel supposed to look like?”

Five couldn’t believe he was actually having this conversation. “I have no idea, but not someone that’s dressed like they just came from working the pole at Santa’s workshop.”

Candy actually laughed, despite the very loaded gun pointed directly at her head and the blatant insult he had just hurled at her. “Santa’s strip club? That’s good! Oh! I bet it would be called ‘The South Pole’.” Her eyes flitted down to where Five had pulled out his gun. “And I wouldn’t mind getting my tongue frozen to your pole.”

“Shut up! Just shut the fuck up! God, you are annoying!”

“Yeah, I get that a lot. But I’m very delightful once you get to know me.”

“I highly doubt that. I’m also not going to find out. Because, even though I could blow your brains out and throw your body into the river very easily right now, I’m not going to do that. So, I highly recommend that you walk away from me before I change my mind.”

“Oh, Five,” she said with a smile, running her hand down his arm. “You’re not going to hurt me. That’s not you.”

Five blanched at her words, lowering the gun. Even though he had liked the feeling of her warm hand on his arm, he shook her off and got in her face.

“I have killed more people than you could ever know,” he snarled.

“263.”

Five’s eyes widened and he took a step back. “What?”

“I do know how many and it’s 263.” She pointed up to the sky and shrugged her shoulders. “We keep track.”

Five didn’t know what to say to that. His heart began to race and his hand trembled as he shoved the gun back into his pants, trying to process the craziest thing this woman had said to him yet. She was right; he had kept track, too.

Chapter Two: Christmas Past

“Fuck.” 

When Five shivered against the cold, Candy opened up her coat, pulling it around his back as she stepped in closer to his side. “Here, let me warm you up.” She leaned in even closer and whispered next to his ear, her lips ghosting over his cheek. “You’re an amazing person, Number Five, and I want to show you that.”

“How?” Five’s voice came out soft, and he realized he was quickly losing his control of the situation.

Candy pressed her body into him, her arms circling his waist. When she kissed him, he didn’t try to pull away. Instead, he felt himself giving in to her and the heat of her hand as she touched the side of his face with her palm. The snow was still falling and landing over them both, but Five was no longer cold. The heat radiating off of her body was more than enough to warm them both. His eyes fell closed as he felt her pull away just slightly, her voice sounding both far away, and directly inside his head.

“Just relax, Five. Let me remind you.”

“Remind me of what?” he whispered, although he wasn’t sure he’d spoken out loud.

“When you were happy.”

Five’s vision started to fade; the snowy landscape around them shimmering like water. For a split second he thought he had his powers back. The sensation was the same. The same surge of energy through his veins, the pull of time and space on every molecule in his body. His heart raced with the possibility that his old self was back. But instead of appearing out of a portal, it was as if he stood still and his surroundings shifted into something new.

One second Five had been standing on a freezing bridge with Candy’s body pressed to his; and the next they were standing in the warm living room of the Hargreeves’ mansion. He was inside of his childhood home and Candy was holding his hand loosely in hers. None of this made sense and he looked to her for an answer. Instead of an actual explanation, she smiled cheerfully, as if nothing out of the ordinary had just happened, and squeezed his hand.

“Just watch,” she chirped.

Five really had no other choice but to wait and watch, considering he had no idea what the fuck was going on. The main room of the mansion had been decorated for Christmas, with wreaths on every window, garland on the mantle above the fireplace, and a tastefully decorated tree in the corner. Looking up, he noticed that some of the trophy heads his father had collected had lights strung across their antlers and necks and he smiled. He actually remembered helping Ben string those up, with both of them wondering if they would get in trouble when Reginald saw. By some miracle, their father either didn’t care or didn’t notice, and the rest of their siblings had laughed and clapped when the oryx and wildebeest were suddenly illuminated with twinkling lights.

Five’s smile turned back into a frown when he realized how old that memory was. They had been around 8 years old then. How the hell was he seeing this now? Before he could question Candy, he heard the stampeding sound of multiple feet running down the hallway towards them, accompanied by loud shrieks of laughter. He watched in disbelief as the 8-year-old version of himself, along with the rest of his brothers and sister, came clamoring into the room.

Five immediately ran his hands over his face and down his arms, fully expecting his body to start sweating and itching like crazy. But he felt fine, and he didn’t feel the normal paranoia creeping in. Maybe it was the denial, though. He looked back at Candy, who was watching him, and she shook her head with a smile.

“Don’t worry. There’s no psychosis here. It’s more of a flashback or like watching a home movie. They’re real but they can’t see us.”

Five rolled his eyes. “So, we’re doing the Christmas Carol thing? How original,” he muttered.

Despite his suspicions of all of this, he went back to watching the scene in front of him. He remembered that exact Christmas Eve because it had always been his favorite. They were still too young to have officially formed the Umbrella Academy, and so life was a little freer than it would be in the coming years. Even though they fought sometimes, and formed alliances behind each other’s backs, that was all forgotten at Christmas time. Everyone was happy and getting along. Their mother brought in a tray of seven mugs of hot chocolate with marshmallows and each kid excitedly grabbed one.

Five watched his younger self double over with laughter when Diego stuck a marshmallow up his nose and shot it into Luther’s mug. He couldn’t remember the last time he had laughed like that, and seeing it was both heartbreaking and uplifting. He smiled, wishing so badly he could step out of whatever bubble Candy had put them in and warn his little innocent self not to ruin his life on a whim just to prove a point.

“I remember this Christmas,” Five said to Candy, not taking his eyes off of his family. “Klaus and Allison had written a stupid play called ‘The Unhappy Christmas Tree’ and forced us all to be in it. We performed it for our mother and Pogo on Christmas morning.”

His supposed guardian angel laughed. “And what part did you play?”

“I’ll give you one guess.”

“The unhappy Christmas tree?”

Five nodded and chuckled. “I had absolutely refused to speak any lines or sing their dumb song, so they made me stand there covered in garland with a star on my head while the rest of them performed around me.”

“I bet you were an adorable little tree.”

“I don’t know about adorable. I was a pretty pissed off little tree, anyway.” Five sighed and shook his head. “Of course, you would have thought it was worthy of a Tony award based on our mother’s reaction. Not that that was real in any way, but it made Allison and Klaus feel good.”

“Did your father enjoy it?”

Five snorted with derision. “Fuck no. He never would have lowered himself to actually spend time with his children. No, I’m sure he was either out with his high-society crowd, or up in his office planning our eventual demise.”

They watched in silence for a few more minutes as his young family laughed and played. They really were a real family once upon a time, all seven of them together. Here was the proof. Ben was alive and Five hadn’t even thought of time travel yet. They even included Viktor in everything back then. Five’s chest tightened with the emotion of a lost childhood and he turned to Candy.

“Make it stop,” he told her, his voice cracking.

“But there’s more to see, don’t you want to—”

“Now,” he demanded harshly. “Stop doing whatever you’re doing.”

She looked sad, the smile that she always seemed to wear fading and she nodded her head slowly. The time travel sensation was back and gone just as quickly, and they were back on the bridge with the wind and snow whipping around them.

“What the fuck did you do to me?” Five yelled at her, yanking his hand away.

“I brought you back to a happy moment in your life. So you could remember what it used to feel like.”

Five wiped aggressively at his face, telling himself that it was wet from the snow, and stumbled backwards away from her. “Stay away from me, whoever or whatever you are!”

Candy raised her arms up and let them drop back down to her sides in frustration. “Five, please! I’m trying to help you.”

“Stay the fuck away from me! Understand? If I see you again, I will kill you!” he yelled into the wind.

He took a few more steps backwards, to make sure she wasn’t going to follow him, but she stayed where she was. Then he turned around and headed towards his apartment as fast as he could without breaking into a sprint.

Head down, Five pressed on for the few remaining blocks, not daring to look behind him. He didn’t know what had happened back there, or who that woman was, but he wanted no part of it. She probably drugged his drink at the bar and everything he had seen was a hallucination. That was the only logical explanation. Logic aside, it had still scared the shit out of him, and Five did not like being the scared one in any situation. He liked to be in control, and back there he had let himself lose control. All because she had pressed her body against his and kissed him.

So what if she was insanely hot, and had a nice ass and her tits were perfect? And so what if she was actually nice to him, even though he was being a dick to her? She was clearly insane. Even attractive people with amazing boobs could be insane, he reminded himself.

When he finally reached his apartment, Five hurried inside and shut and locked the door behind him. He stood shivering with his back against the door, breathing hard and flexing his frozen fingers to try and warm them up. He was still a little tipsy from the bar, but after what he’d just been through, he needed another drink. Striding over to his small, drab kitchen, he pulled out a glass, pouring a generous amount of bourbon, and tipping it back to swallow it in one gulp.

“Fuck,” he said out loud to no one, grimacing from the burn of the alcohol.

Before he could think what to do next, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, startling him back to reality. With a glance at the screen, he sighed heavily, but was actually grateful for someone else to talk to. If only to make sure he wasn’t completely losing his mind.

“Hello?”

“Heyyy, Cinco! We miss you buddy, where are you?”

Klaus was just about as loud as his niece had been, and Five found himself pulling the phone away again.

“I’m at home,” he answered flatly.

“Well, what the hell are you doing there? It’s Christmas Eve, Fivey!”

“I’m aware of the day.”

“Then why would you want to be alone? Come hang out with us. We miss you!”

Five’s heart tightened just a little on hearing that. He missed them, too. A little, anyway. But he stayed silent.

“You’re not still mad at me for spilling guacamole on your suit jacket that one time, are you? Because it really was an accident.”

Five pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers and closed his eyes. “No, Klaus, I am not mad about that. I just don’t want to come, ok?”

There was a pause. In the background, Five could hear the rest of his family being loud and obnoxious as always, with Lila’s voice carrying over all of them. “Klaus, don’t waste your time with that crabby old fart. Let him be miserable and alone. That’s clearly what he wants.”

“We’d really like you to be here,” Klaus said apologetically.

“Yeah, sounds like it.”

“Fivey, come on—”

“Really, Klaus, I’m fine. But as Lila said, don’t waste your time on me, because I’m not coming.”

“Can you at least tell me why?”

Five huffed angrily and raised his voice. “Because maybe I just don’t want to spend Christmas with you people, ok?”

There was silence on the other end and Five immediately felt like shit. Klaus didn’t deserve that. None of them did. Why did he have to be such a stubborn asshole all of the time?

“Yeah, ok. Ten-four, big bro. Have a nice life.”

Five watched as the call went dead and he slammed his phone on the counter.

“Fuck,” he said quietly. But as usual, no one was around to hear it.

He was still wet and shivering from the snow, so after a quick check out the window and a glance at his locked door, he went into his bedroom to change. He just needed to go to bed and go to sleep, that was all. Whatever drug that girl put in his drink would wear off by tomorrow, and maybe then he could think straight. Then maybe he would go over to Diego’s in the morning and apologize; if he wasn’t too hung over, that is.

After pulling off his soaked shoes and socks and peeling off his shirt, Five was in the process of unbuckling his belt and unzipping his fly when he heard it. Those fucking bells. He paused, his hands on his waistband as he listened with his heart pounding loudly in his ears. There was no fucking way he had actually heard that. He must be going crazy. But then he heard it again, and he gritted his teeth together.

When he stormed out of his bedroom, there she was. Standing in his kitchen, helping herself to his bourbon, and looking like she had every right to be there. Her red coat had been discarded in the living room, thrown onto a chair. Five also noticed she had thrown her boots off by the door. When she saw him, she smiled happily and raised her glass.

“This is good! I see why you like it.”

Five wanted to scream or yell or do something. Something other than what he did do, which was to stammer incoherently and run his hands so hard through his hair a few strands were pulled out.

“What the…how did you…god damn it! How the fuck are you here?”

He looked over at his door, which was still dead bolted from the inside. If he had been freaked out before, that was nothing to how he was feeling now. Candy, however, only tilted her head like she had no idea what he was talking about and took another sip of her drink.

“Angels don’t need to use doors, Five. I thought that was common knowledge.”

She shrugged her shoulders, drawing his attention to the smooth skin of her collarbone again. He really wished he could stop thinking about running his lips over that skin and wondering how it would taste. He did not want this girl here. He wanted her to leave him the fuck alone. He’d been very clear about that.

“Get. The fuck. Out,” he spit out between clenched teeth.

Candy ignored him and hoisted herself up onto the kitchen countertop, wiggling her sparkly red painted toes. Her skirt was riding up far enough that Five was able to get another glimpse at those red and white striped underwear of hers. She made no attempt to try and hide them and she looked Five up and down, only just then realizing he was standing there shirtless with his pants halfway undone. She raised her eyebrows.

“Damn, Five” she exhaled quietly. “You can deck my halls anytime.”

Five’s eyes darkened and he strode over to her, muscles dangerously flexed, and he grabbed her around the neck. Only inches from her face, he hissed menacingly as he pressed his fingers in harder.

“I told you I would kill you if I saw you again, didn’t I?”

Candy clasped onto his wrist, but she didn’t seem panicked at all. In fact, it looked like she was trying to smile.

“You’re not going to kill me, Five.”

He tightened his grip again and he heard a small gurgle in her throat.

“What makes you think I won’t?” he snarled.

“Because I think you’d rather do something else to me,” she breathed out.

Five’s chest was heaving and his teeth were bared as he stared her down, his fingers not loosening from around her slender neck. Up close like that, he could see down her shirt and he realized he was standing between her legs, with the inside of her thighs brushing against his hips.

“Is that really what you want?” he growled as he leaned in even closer. “You want to get fucked by some stranger on Christmas Eve? Right here, in this shit hole apartment?”

He saw a small twitch at the corner of her mouth and she inhaled as best she could while he was choking her. Five could feel the intense heat pulsing off her body again, just like when they were out in the snow. She looked him directly in the eyes and nodded.

The one ounce of resolve he had left in him to not let his lust for this woman take over in any way dissolved immediately with that nod.

“Shit,” he cursed to himself in between his heavy panting.

Her head was slammed back into the cupboards behind her as Five moved his hand to the back of her neck and kissed her brutally, his other hand sliding roughly up her skirt and onto her hip, where his fingers dug into her skin.

Five leaned down and sucked a dark bruise on to the delicious looking indentation next to her collarbone. He heard her hissing inhale from his teeth scraping against her and he let up, grabbing a handful of her hair.

“I don’t think you know what you’re getting yourself into here, honey. Because I’m not the nice guy you think I am.” He kissed her roughly before pulling away again. One hand was still in her hair while his other traveled around the font of her skirt and he pressed his entire hand between her legs, pushing his palm hard against her until he heard her let out a little moan. “You are going to get fucked hard and rough, and I’m going to come inside of you because I don’t really give a shit about anything anymore.”

It hadn’t been a question; his drunk self just blurted it out there. He waited for her to tell him to drop dead, or to finally realize who she was dealing with and leave him alone for good. Instead, she reached down and pressed his hand in harder and smirked.

“It’s not nice to tease.”  

With a vicious smile that was more like a snarl, Five pressed his body into hers so that she could feel his hard on grinding into her thigh. He left more bruises over her neck as he eagerly bit and sucked at her skin.

“Get these fucking panties off.”

With one hand he yanked the tiny red and white striped underpants down, letting them fall to the floor while he started fingering her under her skirt. He watched with satisfaction as her eyelids fell closed and she tipped her head back with a low groan.

He wasn’t gentle with her, but she seemed to like it, and even in his inebriated state he knew what he was doing. Five pushed his groin into her again, rubbing himself against her while he stroked the soft, wet folds between her legs. She was starting to roll her hips into his hand, urging him on with the way she was panting, her chest heaving and her breasts pushed up against his chest.

When Five began finger fucking her, hard with two fingers, her moans came out louder and she thrust her hips into him.

“Ohhh…yes,” she whined, her hands clutching the edge of the countertop.

With another growling noise, Five pulled his hand away, leaving her gasping for air. He ripped open the front of her shirt, the buttons pulling apart and exposing her breasts. The bra she had on was striped just like her underwear. He pushed the shirt the rest of the way down her arms and let it fall off of her.

“Let’s see those tits you’ve been shoving in my face.”

Five reached around and unhooked her bra, throwing it on the ground. The sight of her perfectly round breasts displayed before him was too much and he let out a pathetic noise from deep down in his throat. He couldn’t wait any longer, he needed to fuck this girl and he needed to fuck her now. Candy watched, breathing hard, as he unzipped his pants the rest of the way.

“Fuck, Five…I knew you would have a big package to load into my sleigh.”

He was filled with nothing but rage and lust when he pulled her forcibly by her hips, shoving her skirt up around her waist. With one hand he began stroking his straining cock while the other grabbed her hair again, pulling her head back so she was forced to look at him. Her mouth gaped open and her rapid breaths were loud and rasping.

“Tell me you want this,” he demanded through clenched teeth.

She nodded as best she could with his fist in her hair. He shook her slightly and her head hit the cupboard again, the bells on her headband jingling.

“You haven’t shut up all fucking night, so don’t stop now, sweetheart. Tell me you want me to fuck you.”

“I want you to fuck me,” she whimpered quietly as one side of her mouth turned up in a half smile.

Five let go of her hair and positioned himself carefully, using his hand to slip the head of his cock inside of her. She sucked in a sharp gasp at the same time that Five sneered in her face.

“I am going to ruin you.”

The first hard thrust all of the way inside pushed her back and she cried out while grabbing onto his shoulders for support. Five had her hips and ass held tight in his hands as he began to pound into her hot, wet core. Candy’s headband continued to jangle pleasantly each time the back of her head hit the cupboard behind her.

“Fuuuck,” Five groaned out.

“Oh my god you’re good at this,” she moaned. “Keep fucking me like I’m your ho ho ho,” she added with a smile as her head bounced off the cupboard in time with each ‘ho’; those god damn bells ringing.

“Shut. Up.” Five panted. Then he reached up and grabbed her headband, flinging it across the room, the bells making one final, sad tinkling sound as they hit the linoleum. “Jesus, I hate that thing.”

Candy’s laugh was quickly cut off by another desperate moan as Five banged into her over and over again and she clutched at his shoulders. In contrast to his apparent anger and viciousness towards her, he couldn’t help pulling her closer. He liked her impossibly warm skin and the weight of her body on his. He began to kiss her mouth, hard and hungry, sucking at her lips and tasting her tongue on his. She was delicious, like her name, and he kept going back for more until he was clutching her against him and feeling the soft skin of her cheek under his palm and her firm tits pressed against his bare chest.

“Whatever you’re doing to me, stop it,” he begged her as his lips grazed over the corner of her mouth.

“It’s not me, this time. This is all you, daddy.”

“Oh, fuck…I like that,” he groaned into her neck.

“I know you do,” she smirked.

He was still drilling into her hard and fast, and Five could tell that he was doing something she liked because she finally shut the fuck up. The only sounds he heard were the slamming of his body into hers and her whines and cries that were getting louder and more pleading. Her fingers were digging into his skin and her head was thrown back.

“Yes…please,” she gasped in between more of his voracious kisses.

He felt her release against him as she clung to his body with her legs wrapped around his waist and her hands on his back. Her body seemed to give off a shimmering glow as she climaxed and she felt even warmer to the touch, her hot walls pulsing around his dick.

Five picked up his pace, slamming even more violently into her as he chased his own high. He felt like he wanted to break her, to crack her open with each thrust of his hips. He wasn’t even angry at her anymore, but she was the outlet for his chronic rage and he poured every ounce of it into her. It was unrelenting as he shamelessly used her as a way to get his rocks off and maybe a little relief from the constant ache of resentment he felt every day.

The aggression and ferocity kept building until finally Five couldn’t take it. He was barely aware of her existence anymore, just mindlessly penetrating her over and over again. His own orgasm came hard, and he did exactly what he said he was going to, coming inside of her with no warning. Sweating, shuddering, and with a final long, low grunt, he finished unloading into her and fell limply against her body.

“Damn it,” Five groaned sadly under his breath as he rested his forehead against his shitty cabinet door, her hair brushing against his cheek.

He was still breathing heavily, but he wasn’t pent up with rage anymore. He felt the inevitable shame washing over him like a thick, creeping fog. He had let his anger and fear get the best of him, and he had taken it out on her. When he felt Candy’s fingers threading lightly through his hair at the back of his neck, he flinched and drew back, pulling out of her and stepping away.

He immediately zipped his pants back up and pushed his hair off his face. He was having a hard time looking her in the eyes, but he watched as she hopped casually down from the counter to retrieve her bra and panties that had been thoughtlessly discarded on the floor. Once she had them back on again, she stepped closer to Five. He had no choice but to look at her.

“Wow,” she breathed out with a satisfied smile. Her eyebrows creased together when she saw his expression. “What’s wrong?”

Five wasn’t sure how to answer that question, considering it seemed pretty fucking obvious to him. He looked away from her again, turning back to the bottle of bourbon on the counter. With a shaky hand, he poured more into his empty glass. Then he felt her hand on his arm and he turned back around.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Five. I asked for something and you gave it to me. I know you were mad, but that’s ok. That’s what I’m here for. To make you feel better.”

“That’s what you’re here for? Jesus, what kind of fucked up thing is that to say?”

She sighed. “See, this is exactly why I needed to come down here. You think you’re this cold-hearted, uncaring person, but I’ve seen the real you. And you have so much love inside you, Five. You just need to figure out how to let people see it.”

Five turned his back on her, bracing his hands on the counter so that the muscles in his back tensed and flexed and he let out a short, sarcastic laugh.

“How can you even say that, after…” His voice trailed off, too ashamed to finish the sentence.

She placed a hand on his back. “Can I show you more?”

“More what?” he asked miserably.

“Well, even though one of my objectives tonight was to take a ride on your Polar Express, that wasn’t my main one.”

Five rolled his eyes at her stupid innuendo, but he also had to fight down the smile he felt creeping up. He turned to face her again, crossing his arms over his chest.

“And now I suppose this is the point where you show me another vision or whatever it is and I come to some conclusion that life is just one big fucking ray of sunshine?”

Candy shrugged her bare shoulders, standing there in just her skirt and peppermint striped push-up bra. If Five had been in more of a romantic mood, he would have thought she looked adorable. Instead, he just rolled his eyes again, thankful that at least that fucking headband was gone.

She took another step towards him, prying one of his hands away and taking it in hers.

“Don’t you trust me?”

He shook his head slowly. “Not even a little.”

Chapter 3: I'll Stuff Your Stocking

With another soft smile, Candy placed her hand on the side of his face, just like she had done on the bridge. She leaned in to kiss him, so softly and sweetly that Five couldn’t stand how much he loved that feeling. Just like he had gotten lost in the sensation of kissing her while he roughly fucked her, he was losing himself again. He didn’t care about whatever it was she wanted to show him. He wanted to keep kissing her while her warm body was against his. There was something comforting about it and he let himself relax into her.

When he opened his eyes, he and Candy were fully dressed again, standing in another warmly lit home, with her hand clasped in his. He shook off the strangely familiar feeling of teleportation and glanced around. He knew exactly where they were and he let out a disappointed groan.

“Here?” he asked, turning to Candy with a pointedly annoyed look. “Ok, I get it. I’m a big jerk that everyone hates. Can we go now?”

Candy shook her head with a smile, and Five noticed the fucking bells were back on her head.

“Sorry, that’s not how it works.” When she saw his unamused face, she laughed. “Hey, I don’t make the rules, I just carry them out.”

Five reluctantly turned back to the scene before him. It was happening in real time, on that same night, and he watched his entire family as they gathered around Diego and Lila’s small but cozy living room.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath and he felt Candy squeeze his hand.

“So, why isn’t Uncle Five here again?” Grace asked, as they all took seats and she sat on the floor surrounded by presents.

“He is just very busy, sweetie, that’s all,” Luther lied.

Diego and Lila exchanged eye rolls behind their daughter’s back.

"I’m sure you’ll see him soon. Now, why don’t you go ahead and open up the presents everyone brought for you?” Diego said.

Distracted by the presents from her other uncles, Grace started tearing into the paper while everyone watched. Five felt a stabbing sensation in his chest, knowing she was asking about him and he hadn’t even had the decency to show up.

He and Candy watched as the little girl opened each gift, and each time she held one up to show everyone, Five would scoff, growing increasingly agitated.

“Barbies? Please. She doesn’t even like dolls!”

“She already has Candy Land! I know because I bought it for her two years ago. She cheats, by the way.”

“Pink fuzzy bunny slippers. Ok, Klaus, you’re supposed to pick out things for her, not you. Gracie hates pink. She likes purple.”

Five was getting more and more worked up as Grace continued to open her ill-thought-out gifts. He was gesturing wildly to the scene in front of them and looking over to Candy in disbelief.

“Oh for fucks sa—are you seeing this? Dr. Seuss books? Her reading level is much too advanced for those.”

Candy stood silently next to Five, watching his reactions with her usual smile. Grace finished opening her presents and thanked and hugged everyone politely. But Five could see she was secretly disappointed.

Candy finally piped up. “Too bad you aren’t there to give her your gift. You seem to know her the best.”

Five huffed. “Well, it’s not that hard to figure out what a kid likes. All you have to do is pay attention once in a while. Dumbasses.”

“What did you get her again?”

Five hesitated. “A telescope. I told her how I used to look at the stars every night when it was just me and Dolores and she said she wanted me to show her. I was going to take her outside of the city so we could see them better.”

Candy nodded. “When were you planning on doing that? Before or after your very busy plans of getting black-out drunk all by yourself?”

Five’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t say anything. What could he possibly say? She was right. He had no excuse as to why he wasn’t there with his family and doting on his niece like he loved to do. Only that he was a selfish asshole.

“Alright, so are we done here?”

Candy shrugged, and Five noticed the bruises he had left on her neck and chest were gone. “That’s up to you. Have you seen enough?”

Five turned back to his family. Grace had already slipped away from the group of adults, leaving her new gifts on the floor untouched. He was about to tell Candy that he had seen enough, when he realized his siblings were talking about him.

“…couldn’t take ten minutes out of his busy schedule of tossing off to mannequin catalogs to hang out with his family?”

Five flipped Lila off, even though he knew she couldn’t see him.

“I don’t know, I feel bad for him. He’s been through a lot.”

Surprisingly, Luther was defending him. Then Klaus spoke up.

“I know, but haven’t we all? And we’ve somehow managed to get on with life.”

“Yeah, but we have each other. He doesn’t have anyone,” Diego added.

Lila snorted. “Well, he could have if he tried even a little bit. It’s like he loves being a miserable little shit.”

“I do want him to be happy, though,” said Viktor.

Klaus sighed and nodded. “Yeah, me too. It’s just too bad he can’t let himself. I’m not sure the old man even knows how anymore.”

After that, the subject switched to something else and Five was left standing there with a dull ache throbbing in his chest.

“That’s enough,” he said quietly to Candy.

She nodded and took his hand again. The room started to shimmer and then disappear altogether. In a second, they were back in Five’s apartment. Candy was back to wearing nothing but her skirt and bra, her red headband lying on the floor where Five had so rudely flung it. Five was wearing just his pants, which only brought back the shame he had been feeling earlier. Shame heaped on top of shame.

“I thought you said you were supposed to make me feel better.”

“I am!”

“Well, then you’re terrible at your job because I feel shittier than before. Maybe you need to go back and take a guardian angel refresher course.”

Candy laughed. Because of course she would. “I’m sorry, Five, really. But can’t you see how your family just wants you to be happy? And little Grace…she loves you so much.”

Five nodded and leaned against his kitchen counter, hands braced behind him. “Yeah, I heard. And that’s great. But I just don’t know –” his voice trailed off and he looked away from her.

“What?”

“I don’t know how.”

“To be happy?”

Five nodded.

“Five, everyone has the ability to be happy. Some people just have to work for it a little bit more than others. But I have no doubt in my mind that you could be if you just tried.”

Five flung his hands up in frustration. “You keep saying that! How can I try to be happy? That makes no sense. You either are or you aren’t. It’s not like I can wake up in the morning and say ‘Gee, I think I’ll be happy today!’”

“Actually, that’s exactly what you can do.”

Five sighed angrily, but stayed quiet. She obviously didn’t know what she was talking about, and was the world’s worst guardian angel. Amazing body; terrible angel.

“What do you think Dolores would say?”

Eyes flashing and jaw set, he glared at Candy. “Don’t talk about Dolores,” he warned.

“I’m just saying, maybe if you listened to her –”

“STOP! RIGHT NOW!” he shouted, his voice loud enough to make ripples in the bottle of bourbon next to him.

Candy put her hands on her hips, tipping her head back and exhaling loudly. A piece of her dark hair floated upwards from her exasperated breath. With her head back like that, Five could see the love bites he’d left on her neck, renewing his guilt.

“Wow, you are making my job difficult,” she spoke out loud, to him and to whoever else was listening above.

When she looked back at him, her normal smile returned and she let her arms relax at her sides.

“Ok, how about this? You take some time to reflect on things, while I go take a much needed nap in your bed.”

“A nap? Now?”

“Yes. You are very exhausting,” she huffed. Then she smiled and winked at him, reaching out to run a hand down his arm. “In more ways than one.”

As she sauntered past him, towards his bedroom, Five continued to stand in one spot, thoroughly confused. Just when he thought he had her figured out, she’d trip him up again. He had shouted at her, insulted her, and angrily banged her into his yellow, Formica countertop. And what had she done? Nothing. Nothing but continue to be sweet, and encouraging, and sexy. Damn, she was sexy. But why was she still here? He just didn’t understand.

After a few minutes, Five wandered over to his bedroom doorway. Candy was under the covers, lying on her stomach with her head on his pillow, on the side of the bed he normally reserved for himself. He tried not to let that little fact irritate him, though. Her eyes were closed and she was breathing soft and rhythmically.

"Why are you here?” Five asked out loud.

Candy opened her eyes slowly and smiled when she saw him standing there.

“What do you mean? You know why I’m here.”

“I mean, why are you still here? I’ve been awful to you. I threatened to kill you, I screamed at you. Nothing I’ve done has been nice. And you’re still here. Why?”

She propped her head up on one hand. “Those things don’t bother me.”

Five took a few steps into his room, closer to the bed. “They don’t bother you? How?”

“Because I told you, Five. I know you. The real you. And I know you don’t mean any of those things. I’m not scared of you.”

As he was mulling that over, he came and sat on the opposite side of the bed. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

“I know.”

He looked at her, lying there in his bed, looking serene and peaceful despite everything that had happened. “Really, Candy, I am sorry. I’ve treated you like crap and you don’t deserve that. Even if I still think you’re a lunatic.”

She laughed and nodded her head. “It’s ok.”

With another, longer look at her, the sheet hanging loosely over her, he realized something. “Are you naked?”

Candy giggled and nodded. “All guardian angels sleep naked. We generate a lot of heat, so it’s much more comfortable that way.”

Five blinked a few times and swallowed. Apparently being sorry for treating someone like shit did not deter instant boners when that someone was a beautiful woman lying naked in your bed. He shifted, pulling at the crotch of his pants.

"I guess it’s a good thing that I got you as my angel instead of a 300lb hairy man.”

“Ah, that would be Todd. I actually fought him for this job. So, you’re welcome.”

Five wasn’t entirely sure if she was kidding or not, but then she laughed at his confused face, which made him smile in return. He still sat there on the edge of the bed.

“So, are you going to keep me company under these covers, or do you want to just sit there in your uncomfortably tight pants?”

“Only if that’s what you want.”

She nodded.

With a grin, Five stood up and shed his pants while Candy looked him over with an approving smile. He slid into bed, close to her so that he could run a hand gently down her back and over her tight butt. She was still lying on her stomach and she wriggled under his touch.

“What, no clever Christmas-themed sexual innuendo, this time?” he teased.

“I can’t think of any good ones right now.”

“Hmmm…” Five leaned in close, his hand resting on the small of her back. “How about I stuff your stocking and give you some of my special eggnog?”

Candy burst out laughing, burying her face in the pillow, before looking back at his smirking face. “I knew you were funny! See, you just need to loosen up a little.”

He looked thoughtful as he continued to trace soft lines down her shoulders and back with his fingertips. When he pushed her long hair off to the side, he saw what he hadn’t been able to before. Two angel wing tattoos, intricately drawn on each of her shoulder blades. He let out a soft laugh as he touched each one lightly.

“So, what did you have to do to earn these?”

“Nothing. Standard issue.”

“I thought guardian angels were supposed to do something special to earn their wings. You know, like every time a bell rings…”

She shook her head with a smile. “Nope. That’s just in the movies. We all have them. This is just my Earth version. My real wings would look a little too obvious down here.”

He looked at her dubiously, with one eyebrow raised. “Then what do you get if you successfully turn me into a believer?”

“I get to stay.”

“Stay where?”

“Here. On Earth.”

He let out a loud, short laugh. “Why in the hell would you want to stay here?”

She shrugged. “I like it here. You have the ocean, and the sun. Rain, trees, snow, buildings, cars, people. Oh! And the food! It’s all so wonderful!”

Now Five really thought she was bat-shit crazy, but he didn’t comment. She continued.

“It’s an incredibly difficult wish to have granted, though. That’s why they gave me you. Or rather, I chose you.”

“And why is that? What’s so special about me?”

Candy smiled coyly, shifting her body over so that she was pressing Five back into the mattress by his shoulders. She climbed on top of him, straddling his thighs and letting the covers fall off of her.

“Because you, Five Hargreeves…” she rocked her hips into him and he groaned. “…are a very hard man to please.” She rubbed herself against him again, sliding her wet heat over his cock.

Five grabbed her hips and she straightened herself, allowing him to see her fully naked body on top of him. He let out a stuttering breath.

“Well, I’m pretty fucking pleased right now. Does this count?”

She shook her head sadly. “I’m afraid not. But that doesn’t mean we can’t have some fun in the meantime.”

After reaching up to cup each breast, rubbing his thumb over her stiff nipples and watching her throw her head back, Five ran his hands slowly down her sides. He loved the softness of her skin and the curves of her body; the intense heat that got stronger with her arousal. He desperately wanted to feel himself inside of her again, but without all of the anger and malice that he had projected onto her the last time.

“If you kiss me, will you make me see things again?”

“No. Not this time.”

Five nodded. “Then kiss me,” he whispered. "Please."

When she leaned over him, she paused for just a moment, an inch from his mouth, and then her lips met his as he closed his eyes. His hand caressed the side of her face and his fingers found their way into her long hair. This time there was no anger or violence; no screaming urge to drive her away or control her. He just wanted to keep kissing her, to touch her hot skin, and feel the weight of her body on top of his. He hadn’t realized it before, but it felt so good with her naked body pressed to his. There was something comforting about it. And he was so rarely comforted.

Five wasn’t sure when she had adjusted herself so that his cock was sliding inside of her again, but her hips were moving in a steady rhythm against his, her sex so hot and wet that he was positive he’d never felt anything so amazing in his entire life.

She moved her mouth to the side of his neck, still slowly riding him, as he breathed loudly into the sweet scent of her hair.

“Five,” she whined, drawing his name out as her lips brushed across his skin.

“Oh, fuck…” He knew he had a tendency for arrogance, but he never realized just how much he loved hearing his name moaned next to his ear while he was being fucked. But he could say for absolute certainty now that he would not get tired of hearing it.

His hands were on her hips again, urging her to ride him faster and harder, all while her chest remained flush with his. Their soft kisses had turned into hungry ones, and Five latched onto the creamy skin next to her collarbone again, sucking another purple mark onto it.

“I want to give you what you want. Just tell me,” he panted, his breath hot on her already flaming skin.

“I need you in deeper, Five. I want more of you.”

“Sit up.”

Candy took the direction, pulling herself away from Five’s mouth and neck, and sat up, sinking deeper down onto his cock. Five’s strong hands pushed her down further, harder, and he thrust his hips up to meet hers.

“Oh fuck yes !” she yelled, letting him roughly guide her body.

Grasping hands; fingers digging into hot, damp skin; the sound of the bed slamming into the wall, and her desperate moans and cries were mixing together into one erotic symphony as Five drove into her again and again. It was the most blissful experience he’d ever had. He couldn’t even remember why he was so angry towards her earlier. Oh right, she claimed to be a celestial being, wouldn’t shut up, and broke into his apartment. Well, right now he didn’t care about any of that. Right now, he watched her amazingly tight body rock back and forth on top of him, his dick buried deep inside her.

“You feel so goddamn good right now. Maybe you’re my guardian angel after all.”

She let out a breathy laugh and bit her bottom lip as she continued to ride him.

“That’s another reason I want to stay here…fuuck…the sex here is…oh god, yes, do more of that…amazing…ah shit, Five!”

With a long wail of pleasure, Candy tipped her head back, mouth open, as she came undone. Five watched her face, lost in ecstasy; took in her body that was writhing and shuddering on top of his; felt her tight cunt pulsing around him. The arrogant, asshole part of him that lived inside his brain was practically gloating over the fact that he was the one responsible for all of it, too. And, fuck, if that wasn’t the final push he needed to be filling her up with his cum again, groaning through a clenched jaw as he pressed his fingers further into her flesh.

Afterwards, they laid there in silence, Candy’s head next to his on the pillow as she smiled over at him and let out a contented sigh, stretching her body out long like a cat warming itself in a sunbeam. Five laid on his back, staring at the ceiling, a million thoughts running through his head. That old feeling of guilt was creeping back in again.

“I really am sorry,” he said quietly. “For earlier.”

“And I already said it’s ok.”

He tapped his fingers on his bare chest, as one of the many nagging thoughts in his brain surfaced again. “Candy, how old are you?”

She let out a giggle that she quickly suppressed. “Are you worried that you’ve taken advantage of an impressionable, young woman that’s half your age?”

Five looked over in surprise, and then remembered that she seemed to know everything about him. Even things no one should know. So, of course, she would know his true age.

“That’s a bit of a concern of mine, yes.”

“Well, if anyone is taking advantage of anyone in this scenario it’s me with you.”

“How so?”

“We don’t really have years like they do down here, but if I were to guess, I’d probably be around 390.”

Five raised his eyebrows at her and let out a disbelieving laugh. “390 years old.”

Candy stretched out languidly again, showing off her body that could not have been more than 22 years old by the looks of it. After a yawn, she nodded. “Yep. I’m the ultimate cougar, aren’t I?” She laughed at her own joke.

With a shake of his head, Five let out a soft sigh. He was not even sure why he bothered. Every time she answered one of his questions, it only created more. In the matter of a few hours, he had gone through about every emotion in his inventory, and he still didn’t understand what was going on. Just a couple of hours earlier, he had threatened to kill this woman. He had held a loaded gun to her head. And now, here she was, lying naked next to him in his bed, as comfortable as could be. The even weirder part was that Five felt comfortable, too. He had no panicky urge to kick her out with some lame excuse; no sudden need to get up and shower, remaining aloof until she left on her own.

He liked her. He thought. Or maybe she drugged him again, who the fuck knows? Whatever was going on was strange, to say the least. He looked back over at her, and she had fallen asleep. If this little game of visions they were playing was going to continue, then that meant there would be one more. The future, he supposed. He laughed quietly to himself. Jesus, what was wrong with him?

He laid there for a while, thinking, and watching her sleep. He wasn’t tired, though, so eventually, after covering her gently with a blanket, he slipped out of bed. In the bathroom, he washed his face and looked in the mirror. He thought about what Candy had said. “What would Dolores say?” Well, he thought, what would she say? If he wanted to depress himself even more, he’d realize he could literally ask her right then. She was there, staring him in the face as he looked at his reflection. He wasn’t stupid. He knew the love of his life had been just a branch of his subconscious. Created for the sole purpose of not going completely insane. Five wasn’t sure that had worked entirely, though. Just look at him now.

“She’d say you’re being an asshole.” He spoke out loud to the mirror. “She’d tell you to stop being a whiny cry baby all the time and try to be grateful for once.” Five ran a hand down his face. “She’d tell you to stop drinking so much. And maybe be nice to people. Even if they are idiots. And to stop closing yourself off to your family.”

He sighed. Then he looked down at the chipped porcelain sink and smiled to himself.

“As usual, my darling, you are right about everything.”

As Candy slept, Five sat in the dark of his apartment, in his underwear, and thought. He had poured himself another bourbon, more out of habit than anything else, but then thought better of it and dumped it down the sink. He’d had more than enough to drink that night. So, he’d chosen water instead, and sat in the worn armchair in his living room, staring out at the skyline.

He normally hated looking out that window. When he had moved in, he had asked if they had anything on the ground floor, but the only availability was on the sixth. So, every day he had to stare out into the world that he supposed he was partially responsible for creating. In the very far distance, he could make out the obnoxious search lights that circled the night sky from the roof of his father’s skyscraper. He would listen to the sounds of the police sirens wailing continually, the constant roar of choppers overhead as they completed their nightly rounds. Each one of the vehicles were emblazoned with his father’s HE logo, since he owned the law, too. Most nights he would slam the blinds down so he wouldn’t have to look at it.

But Five was tired of being angry and resentful. He was tired of being a miserable, crabby old fart, as Lila had said. He was exhausted, actually. So, maybe it was time to take Candy and Dolores’ advice and move on. Be grateful for the things he did have. Be happy for once.

Chapter 4: White Christmas

Five was still sitting there an hour later when Candy came strolling in from the bedroom. She had thrown on one of Five’s white t-shirts, with it barely covering the striped panties she had put back on. She hadn’t bothered with a bra, and Five could make out the faint outline of her nipples through the material. When she walked over to him, she smiled and sat down in his lap, putting an arm around his shoulder.

“What are you doing out here all alone?”

“Just thinking,” he mused, while looking her delicious looking body up and down.

“Good, you need to think. Thanks for letting me sleep, though.”

Five’s hand immediately began stroking her bare legs and not-so-subtly trying to grind up onto her tight little butt.

“I guess that means you have more energy now?” His hand crept up higher, onto her hip. “Why don't you let me do something about that.”

He gave her a playful nip to her neck and she giggled. He was starting to like that sound. Better than the bells, anyway.

“That is very tempting, and I can tell, or rather feel , that you are ready for another round of ‘Hide the Yule Log’, but we can’t do that just yet.”

Five frowned. “You can’t expect me to behave when you come in wearing nothing but my t-shirt and drop into my lap like this.”

She laughed. “I know, I’m rotten. I do like seeing you squirm, though.”

Five would rather be squirming into her underpants, but considering his earlier transgressions, he decided to behave. That didn’t mean he had to stop running his hand up and down her smooth thigh, though.

“You’re going to make me see things again, aren’t you?”

Candy nodded. “It’s time.”

“Please don’t make me do this again.”

His voice had come out soft and the words caught in his throat. He looked away out of embarrassment.

“Why not?”

“Because if you’re going to show me the future, I’d rather not see it.”

“Why is that?”

“I’m scared,” he croaked out. “I don’t exactly have a good track record with seeing future events. Or future versions of myself, for that matter.”

She smiled sadly, but nodded, tracing her fingers lightly over his lips. “I know, but it’s ok. You need to see it.”

“I don’t need to. I get it. I’m an old, ungrateful bastard that needs to let people in more and live a happier life. See? I don’t need this part. I figured it out already.”

“That’s not really how this works,” Candy argued.

Five let out a frustrated groan. “Who cares? I learned my lesson, end of story. Now, why don’t you give me my shirt back and we can do something much more fun.”

He leaned in to kiss her and she held him back with a hand on his chest, shaking her head.

“Later. Right now, I need to show you.”

Five inhaled a deep breath and swallowed hard, giving her a small nod of assent. “Ok.”

Another soft kiss, another pulling sensation over his body. When Five looked up, they were back in Diego and Lila’s living room. It was the same house, but things were different. Different furniture, wall paint, and light fixtures. He was about to ask Candy if she screwed up, but then there were voices and his brother and Lila entered the room.

They had aged, that much was clear. By how many years Five wasn’t sure, but there were deep wrinkles in their foreheads and around their eyes. Diego’s hair had streaks of gray running through it.

“We don’t have to invite him, you know. It’s not required.”

Diego sighed and put his hands on his hips, addressing Lila. “He’s my brother. We kind of do.”

“Well, by that logic, do you want to send off an invitation to good old Reggie, too? Just because he’s your adopted brother, doesn’t mean you owe him anything. Besides, do you even know if the little shit stain is still alive? We haven’t seen him in like, what? At least three years.”

Five balked at that. They hadn’t seen him in three years? How was that possible?

There was another long sigh from Diego and he shook his head. “I guess I just assume he is. The old bastard is hard to kill.”

Lila crossed her arms and looked at him in the pointed way that hadn’t changed in so many years. “And do you really want another incident like Grace’s college graduation?”

“No, of course not. But maybe he’s changed; maybe he’s better now.”

“Diego!” Lila threw her arms up and looked at him in disbelief. “The man showed up hammered drunk, interrupted the commencement speaker to yell at them about how wrong they were, and then proceeded to upchuck in the parking lot in front of all of Grace's friends! I highly doubt he’s just miraculously better now.”

Diego nodded in agreement.

“And it’s not like that’s the only time. Remember that Thanksgiving when she was in high school? He drank all the wine and passed out on the floor in the living room? All in front of her boyfriend? She was so embarrassed.” Lila’s voice softened and she put a hand on Diego’s arm. “You tried your best. We all did. But you can’t change someone that doesn’t want to be changed.”

“You’re right. It’s probably for the best that we don't invite him. I wouldn’t want anything horrible like that to happen at her wedding. Besides, I don’t think she will want him there, either.”

Five’s insides were churning and the tightening sensation in his chest was making it hard to breathe. He looked over at Candy, who was watching him with a pitying look on her face.

“This can’t be real. I would never do those things. Ever! Especially not to Grace.”

Candy shook her head sadly. “I know you don’t think you would. But it’s a slippery slope from where you are now.”

Five shook his head, refusing to believe it. There was no way he’d ever let himself stoop so low. Would he? And they weren’t even going to invite him to Grace’s wedding? He clutched at his stomach.

“No. There’s no way. This did not happen.”

“But it has happened. This is the future. Unless you do something to change it.”

Five was silent for a moment, taking that in. “Lila said they weren’t sure I was still alive.” He turned to Candy again. “Am I?”

“Well, see for yourself.”

There was more shimmering around them, the living room fading away as it was replaced with a different scene. As it came into view, Five could see that it was his apartment. Or, at least a version of his apartment. It looked like many years had gone by and it had fallen into disrepair. The paint was peeling on the walls, the window looked like it had been broken at one point and was now half-hidden behind some plastic held up with duct tape. The kitchen was falling apart, with cabinet doors hanging crooked on their hinges, and the faucet dripping continually into the old, stainless-steel sink.

The television was on, tuned to some news station. The anchor was talking about the upcoming New Year’s Eve gala that was held every year inside Reginald Hargreeves’ tower. Only the very elite of the city were invited, of course, but that’s not what Five was focusing on. It was the date. He was looking twenty years into the future.

If that were true, that meant he’d been living in the same shit hole for two decades? And it really was a shit hole now. The place looked like it should be condemned.

Just as Five was about to question Candy, there was a groaning sound coming from the beat up couch in front of the tv. A figure slowly hoisted themselves up and ran a hand through their graying hair. He couldn’t see his face, but Five was pretty sure he knew who it was.

“Shut the fuck up! Fucking Hargreeves bullshit.”

Five watched as his older self grumbled out loud at the tv, standing up to turn in their direction. His heart sank. How many times was he going to have to face his future self? Of all the versions so far, however, this one might have been the worst. He should have only been in his early forties, but he looked about eighty. Even his 100-year-old self had looked marginally better.

With thinning hair and a prematurely aged face that looked like it hadn’t been shaved in several days, the older version stumbled into the kitchen, scrounging in the cupboards. Five noticed that his clothes were wrinkled and stained, like he’d been wearing them for days at a time. In fact, he looked like he hadn’t showered in about that long, too. His expensive clothes that he was normally proud of were now thread bare; his dress shirt looking more yellow than white.

Once he finally found the bottle of cheap whiskey he had been searching for, his older self poured a large glass and then wandered back to the couch again.

Five looked to Candy, his face horror-struck. “This can’t be…how could I live like this?”

“It’s pretty sad, isn’t it?”

Five nodded guiltily. The other version was mumbling out loud to himself and Five listened to his own voice croaking out of the pile of detritus that was his older body.

“Yes, I know what you said, but this is the last one for the night, I swear.” There was a pause. “You don’t even know what you’re talking about. This is only my second one.” Another pause and a heavy sigh. “Alright, Dolores. Whatever you say.”

Holy shit. He was back to talking to Dolores? And he didn’t even have a solid, mannequin version of her to at least give some realness to it. He was just mumbling to himself; like a crazy person.

Five closed his eyes and shook his head like he was trying to erase this vision from his memory, but of course that didn’t work, and he turned to Candy, his eyes wide with fright.

“Stop it. Please, I can’t stand this. This can’t be me. Change it back,” he pleaded.

“I can’t do that, Five. Only you can change it.”

“Fine. I’m sorry, ok? I’m sorry for all the ways I’ve fucked up over the years, and all of the horrible things I’ve done. I’m sorry!”

She shook her head, the bells on her headband jangling sadly. “I know you’re sorry. But that’s not enough to change things.”

“Well then what the fuck! I…I can’t let this happen. It’s such a…”

“What, Five?”

Five’s eyes filled with tears and his voice broke. “A fucking waste of a life! After everything I have done. I did not spend 45 years in a fucking wasteland to save my family and the world, just to end up as a sad, old drunk all alone. I worked too hard for it to end like this. Why didn’t I appreciate what I had? Why did I pull away from my family?” He shook his head. “No, this is not going to happen. I refuse to go out like this. I have to make it right. Starting now, I’m going to make this right.”

Candy smiled warmly and pulled him in close. She kissed his cheek and put her arms around his shoulders. “That’s all I needed to hear.”

When they were back in Five’s apartment, even though it looked the same as usual and in better shape than the future version, he still couldn’t help but cringe. He needed to find a new place, and soon, that was for certain.

Candy was not on his lap anymore, but sitting across from him in another chair. She was still wearing his t-shirt and nothing else, but Five wasn’t really focused on that at the moment. She leaned forward, her forearms resting on her legs.

“Please tell me we’re done. That was horrible and I never want to see that again,” Five begged.

“You won’t have to. As long as you change and don’t let yourself become that version.”

He nodded and exhaled a long and shaky breath. “I won’t. I’m going to stop being such a prick and start living my life.” He scrubbed a hand down his face, trying to forget everything he’d seen, and then glanced at the clock on the wall. It was still the middle of the night. Too early, or late, to really do anything now. But first thing in the morning, Christmas morning, he was going to start making things right. Five looked back to Candy.

“Even though I hated all of that, you helped me see what I really needed to see. So, thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Does this mean you believe in guardian angels now?”

Five narrowed his eyes, a smile quirking up the corner of his mouth. “I guess I have to, don’t I? I have no other explanation.”

Candy laughed and clapped her hands together, then pumped her fists in the air. “Yes! Ha! I knew I could make you believe!”

Five laughed along with her, that horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach starting to fade away. Then he quieted again and looked at her thoughtfully.

“So, does this mean you’re leaving now? Now that your job is done?”

She shrugged, and Five found he didn’t find that little mannerism nearly as annoying as he used to.  “Yes, eventually. But I don’t have to leave this very minute.” She smiled and spread her legs just enough so that Five could get a glimpse of the red and white stripes between them. “Why? Have something in mind?”

“Well, I figured I have a few more hours before I have to start being a better person. Might as well make the most of it.”

Candy stood up and crossed over, plopping herself in his lap again, making sure to wiggle her butt over just the right spot to get him hard again.

“And just what naughty thing were you thinking?”

Five smiled slyly. “It is after midnight; technically Christmas.” He leaned in to kiss her neck, not hard like before, but gently; trailing his lips over her hot skin, teasing, until he heard her make a little sighing noise and she shifted in his lap, rubbing against the growing tent in his boxers. His hand crept back up her leg and onto her hip, where he slipped one finger into the waistband of her underwear. “And since you’re sitting here on my lap, grinding your cute little ass into my crotch, why don’t you go ahead and tell Daddy what you want?”

Her breath hitching in her throat, Candy closed her eyes for a moment, teeth digging into her bottom lip before looking back at him, her breasts rising and falling with each labored breath. She grazed a finger down his neck and over his chest.

“Will you give me anything I want?” she purred with a smile.

“Anything.”

“Then I want you to bend me over…” she kissed his lips softly, “…grab my hips…” another kiss, “…spread me open…” one bite under his jaw, “…and give me a White Christmas, Daddy .” With the last word she pressed into him harder.

“Jesus Chri—” he started to moan, but he was cut off.

She was kissing him. Slow and deep, lacing her fingers through his hair while he swallowed each whimper and moan she breathed into his mouth. Five couldn’t stop his hands roaming over her body, her skin like hot silk under his fingers. Every part of her was a piece of heaven, maybe even literally, and he wanted to commit every curve to memory. She was still kissing him when he stood, picking her up with him, and carried her into his bedroom. When he placed her on his bed, she immediately yanked his stolen t-shirt over her head, propping herself on her elbows and displaying her flawless breasts.

After removing his own underwear, Five climbed onto the bed, kneeling between her legs. Leaning over her, his hands on either side of her and holding himself up, she was forced onto her back.

“I’m going to give you what you asked for, sweetheart, don’t worry. But first, I need to get a taste of this stunning body of yours. See if you live up to your name.”

He leaned in, like he was going to kiss her, stopping just before their lips met, and then he pulled away again. Flashing an overly-confident smirk, he moved south, massaging each breast and taking turns with each side; licking and sucking at each perfect nipple. Five could have spent an entire day just worshiping those soft mounds of flesh. He’d always considered himself a titty man. Tits and ass; that was his thing. As long as a woman had a nice rack and a tight ass, Five didn’t really care what else was going on with them. And fuck, did Candy have a nice one of each.

After a particularly hard bite onto her sensitive nipple, Candy gave a small shriek, but that only spurred Five on further. His bites got harder and he sucked at her skin until he left more marks all over her chest. With each one, though, her back would arch off the bed and she’d push her hips up into him.

“Five…” she pleaded softly.

“I know, sweetheart, I’ll get there. But these gorgeous tits are just too good to ignore.”

She threaded her fingers through his hair as he continued to blissfully torture her. “Please, just…I want your partridge in my pear tree!”

Five rolled his eyes and ignored her remark.

Candy hissed sharply as his teeth dragged across an already bruising mark. “Load up my one-horse open sleigh.”

He resisted the urge to laugh, and instead gave her a hard pinch on her already abused nipple.

“Ah!” she cried, digging her nails into his scalp. “But I need you! Stuff my Christmas turkey, frost my gingerbread house, eat my fruitcake, mmmph!”

Five clapped a hand over her mouth and raised himself up so he could look down on her face, his lips pressed into a thin line of annoyance. He could feel her smiling beneath his palm.

“Candy?”

“Hmm?”

“Shut up.”

After she nodded, he released his hand, and thankfully she did shut up for once. He knelt in front of her again, frowning as he started pulling her panties down her hips.

“And don’t ever wear these again. They just create more work for me.”

He shoved them the rest of the way off and flung them over his shoulder with a scowl as she laughed. Five took a moment to appreciate the fact that this amazingly stunning woman was stretched out before him, completely naked, and waiting for him to fuck her. She was dying for it, too. Chest heaving and hips twitching, it was a small miracle that Five wasn’t shoving his dick into her already. But he really did want to know what the rest of her tasted like.

When he ran his tongue up her wet slit, she thrusted up so hard that he had to forcefully hold her hips down so he wouldn’t get bucked off.

“Oh shit!” she cried out, her hands clutching the sheets underneath her as her head flung back. “Five, oh my god, that’s –”

She was cut off by her own high-pitched whine as Five sucked at her folds and her clit, using his tongue to penetrate her and hungrily lap up the slick wetness that was running out of her. He didn’t have much experience in eating anyone out, since most of his one-night stands got right down to the fucking with not much time for foreplay. Even though he was making it up as he went along, it seemed to be working in his favor, judging by the sounds she was making and the strength it took for him to hold her writhing body down.

When he felt her getting close; when she was panting loudly and moaning his name, he started drawing it out longer. He slowed down his pace, no longer devouring her, but licking languidly at her hole and pausing to kiss her inner thighs. He smiled when he heard the disappointed groan.

“Five…”

He stopped altogether and raised his head to look at her, one eyebrow raised and a crooked smile on his wet and shiny lips.

“Yeah?”

She exhaled loudly and tried to buck up into him again, but he was still holding her down. “Damn it…don’t stop now!”

“Why? Did you like that?”

“Fuck…Five, please.” Her desperate whine was on the verge of turning into an all out sob.

“Well, since you asked nicely.”

It didn’t take long after he was back on her before her moans turned into loud screams and her back was arching off the bed again. Five worked her into more and more of a frenzy as he felt her pulsing against him, coming against his mouth and soaking the sheets underneath them. He had started grinding himself into the mattress as his own arousal peaked, and Five was very afraid of blowing his load with his dick not even touching her.

He sat up and looked at her lying there with her hair in a mess around her, her chest flushed pink and littered with his bites and bruises, gasping for air from the intense orgasm that he gave her. Holy fuck, he needed to come.

Five moved up, straddling her waist as he clutched his straining dick in his hands.

“I want to fuck your tits,” he breathed out desperately.

Candy nodded eagerly and Five positioned himself so that his cock nestled in the valley of her cleavage and she pushed her breasts together, sheathing him in her warm skin.

“Oh fuck, yes,” he groaned out.

Straddling her chest, Five started thrusting hard and fast, all while he looked down so he didn’t miss out on the pornographic visual. His dick was so hard that the leaked pre-cum that was dripping steadily out smeared over his shaft and between her tits. Candy was massaging and squeezing them around him, running her thumbs over her nipples as he rutted into her. She was so soft and tight at the same time, and the feeling was so fucking good. So much better than when he used to try and use Dolores in the same manner. Back then, he’d had to envision a real live woman beneath him, but now it was very real and he was going to lose it in about ten seconds.

Not wanting to risk it by coming in her face, Five backed off, slipping out of her. Still kneeling over her, he grasped his rock-hard dick and jerked himself vigorously. He tipped his head back with a groan while he worked his fist over himself faster and faster until he was just on the precipice.

“Fuck, I’m going to come on you,” he groaned, as if that wasn’t already obvious.

He gave her the White Christmas she had asked for, painting her perfect tits with ropes of cum, covering her until it was sliding down her sides and onto the bed. Five continued to work himself over, each spasm seeming to create another spurt of semen that was strewn across her chest. When he was finally spent, he let go of himself and climbed off of her, flopping on his back in post-orgasmic bliss.

“Holy shit,” he murmured between ragged breaths.

After a minute, he looked over at Candy, who had propped herself up on her elbows and was watching him. The sight of her covered in his dripping load was quite possibly the hottest thing he’d ever seen, and if he had a few more minutes, he could probably use that image to get hard again. But that wouldn’t be very nice to leave her like that, and even he wasn’t that much of a selfish asshole.

“Hang on, I’ll be right back.”

When he returned with a washcloth, Five helped to clean her up.

“Sorry. I guess I didn’t really ask if that was ok.”

“No, you didn’t, but that’s ok. I like when you take charge.”

Five gave her a sexy smirk, but then it faltered with the realization that she was probably going to leave him soon.

“Do you have to go now?”

Candy hesitated, but then she shook her head. “Not quite yet. I can stay for a little longer…if that’s what you want.”

Five nodded, then pulled her into him, trapping her in his arms, her back flush with his chest as they laid side by side. Candy wiggled in closer and pressed her ass against him.

“Stay as long as you can, ok?” he whispered.

She squeezed his hand and placed it on her stomach. “Ok.”

With his free hand, he traced his fingers down her side and over her hip and thigh. She let out a soft sigh and relaxed into his chest. Five kissed her neck and her shoulder.

“Thank you.”

“You already thanked me.”

“This time I mean for everything. Thank you for making me see what I couldn’t before. But also, thank you for just being here. I didn’t realize how lonely I had become.”

“You’re welcome. And…I wish I could stay.”

He gave her another kiss to her neck and she closed her eyes. “Why can’t you?”

“There are rules. And I have to go back.”

“Will you ever come back?”

“If everything goes the way I want, then yes.”

Five pushed his groin that was already starting to harden again, into her firm backside. Candy let out a tiny moan and pushed back.

“Then I hope you find me,” he said softly against her skin.

“I think it would be very hard to stay away from you.”

He could feel her skin getting warmer again, and he moved so that his cock slid between her legs, brushing against her folds that were already wet for him.

His mouth sucked another mark onto the nape of her neck as he lowered his voice and his hand slid down to squeeze the inside of her thigh. “Do you want me again?”

“Yes,” she whimpered. She pressed backwards, slick running down her inner thighs and wetting his dick as he rubbed between them.

“God, I could keep fucking you all day,” he groaned.

“Just fuck me for as long as we have.”

With a deep growl, Five pulled her hard against him, as she lifted her leg and rested it on top of his. He inhaled sharply when she reached back and grabbed his cock, guiding it into her dripping cunt and thrusting backwards so that his full length was completely inside of her.

“Five,” she moaned sweetly as he rocked into her.

He kept up the slow pace, pulling at her hip and kissing any area of exposed skin that he could reach. He had wanted to hold himself back; to draw it out as long as possible. He had wanted to drink in the scent of her hair and trail his mouth over her soft skin. But then she moaned his name again.

Digging his fingers into her hip, he hissed next to her ear.

“Be a good girl and let Daddy fuck you hard, ok sweetheart?”

With the shamelessly loud groan that she released as her back arched against him, he really didn’t need an answer, but he waited for one anyway.

“Fuck yes. Give it to me.”

Five pulled out and roughly flipped her over so that she was on her stomach and he positioned himself behind her. Grabbing her hips and jerking them backwards, he lined up with her entrance again and shoved himself inside of her. With teeth clenched and jaw set, he got to work. Banging into her ferociously, his hips slapping against her as he railed into her as hard as he could. He didn’t need to feel guilty. She wanted it like this, and he wasn’t doing it out of rage. Anger wasn’t driving him this time, just pure animalistic lust and feral instinct.

He continued pounding into her and they were both lost in their own highs. Candy was moaning loudly, begging for more and clutching at the sheets underneath her. Five was grunting through gritted teeth with the effort he was putting in to fucking her; fueled even more by the hypnotic visual of her angel wing tattoos flexing and twisting as she braced herself against his powerful thrusts. After a few minutes, it was clear that neither one of them were going to be able to take much more.

With another long whine, Candy reached down to rub her clit while Five slammed into her. He could feel her hand every time he thrust forward and his balls slapped against it.

“Five…I can’t…I’m going to come!”

“Go ahead, baby. Come on my dick while you touch yourself.”

“Oh fuuuck, Five!”

When he heard her scream, he came with a loud growl, holding her flush to his body as he pumped one more load inside of her. He could feel her contracting around him as his hips stuttered against her backside. Candy’s legs were shaking and Five pulled out so she could lie down flat, her hair covering her face as she sucked air into her lungs. He sat back on his knees and gave her a playful slap on the ass before lying down next to her.

As they both laid there, trying to steady their breathing, a few minutes passed in silence. Then Five heard her giggle under her curtain of hair. When he pushed it out of the way, she was grinning up at him

“When I think about you, I touch my elf. ”

Five shook his head with a smile. “Have I told you how annoying you are?”

“You may have mentioned it once or twice.”

He leaned over and gave her a kiss on the cheek. Then he flipped her hair over her face so she was hidden again. “There. Much better.”

Chapter 5: It's A Wonderful Life

In the early morning hours, Five finally drifted off, warm and content, with his arm flung across Candy’s stomach. She never let him know before she left, but in the morning when he woke, there was no sign of her. He didn’t know why he was surprised; he knew she wasn’t going to stay for much longer. But when he walked into the living room of his apartment, there was no red coat. No black boots by the door. And, most notably, no red headband. All evidence of her existence was gone. All except for the lingering scent of her hair on his pillow and one tiny bell that he found on the kitchen floor and slipped into his dresser drawer.

He was sad she was gone, but not in a way that felt permanent or oppressive. She had shown him there was a lot more to live for, and it needed to start with himself. He didn’t need her with him to make the changes he needed to.

It was still early, but he knew Grace would have woken up at the crack of dawn on Christmas morning, so he was sure Diego and Lila were up. The rest of his family would probably sleep in a little but then they would be over at their house again, too.

After a shower, Five changed and grabbed the wrapped present he had for Grace on the way out. He stopped by a bakery that happened to be open that morning, and then caught a cab to Diego’s. When he knocked on the door at 7am, he tried not to laugh when his brother opened the door. Diego was still in his bathrobe, looking disheveled and sleep deprived, a cup of coffee in his hands. But the look on his face when he saw Five standing there was priceless. He actually poked his head out of the door and looked around him, as if there might be some kind of prank being played on him and there were cameras around to film his reaction.

“Five, what are you doing here? Are you still drunk from last night?”

“No! I’m here to watch Grace open her presents. And to hang out with you guys, too, if you’ll let me.”

Diego frowned like he couldn’t quite comprehend what he was hearing. He looked Five up and down, taking in his clean-cut appearance, and coming to the conclusion that he must not have come directly from a bar.

“So, can I come in, or do you want me to stand out here all day freezing my nuts off?”

“Oh. Uh, yeah…sure, come on in. Grace and Lila are in the living room.”

He stepped aside to let Five in, still not completely believing what he was seeing. After a moment though, he smiled and clapped Five on the back.

“I’m glad you’re here. We missed you yesterday.”

Five nodded. “I’m sorry about that. I won’t miss any more family things from now on.”

Five handed off the box of pastries he had picked up and headed into the room where Lila and Grace were gathered around the Christmas tree. When Grace saw her uncle, she let out a little screech and ran over to him, throwing her arms around his waist in a big hug.

“Uncle Five! I knew you would come! My mom said you weren’t going to, but I knew you would!”

Five laughed, then he looked at Lila who was staring at him with the same expression Diego had given him.

“Merry Christmas, Lila,” Five said with as much of a smile as he could manage, and only a hint of snark. He could learn to be nice, but he still had his limits.

“Yeah, Merry Christmas to you, too,” she said slowly, her eyebrows creased together in confusion.

Five didn’t even respond when he heard her add “wanker” under her breath.

“Is that my present?” Grace asked when she eyed the large box that Five was holding.

“It is. Do you want to open it? I think you’ll like it.”

She nodded and sat on the floor as Five handed it to her and then joined Diego on the couch. They watched as the little girl ripped open the paper and gasped.

“A real telescope?!”

Five nodded, smiling. “Yep. Now we can go look at the stars together.”

Grace looked up at him with her little chubby face and wide, dark eyes. Then she jumped up from the floor and ran to Five, throwing her arms around his neck in a hug.

“Thank you thank you thank you! I love it so much!” As Five hugged her back, Grace pecked his cheek with a kiss. “This is my favorite present and you’re my favorite person.”

Five grinned and gave her a kiss on the top of her head “You’re my favorite person, too, Gracie.”

As she returned to the telescope and busied herself with getting it out of the box, Five heard Diego sniffing next to him. Lila groaned.

“Oh my god, are you crying , Diego?”

“No! I’m not crying. It’s just…dry in here…and I have allergies…and I’m probably getting a cold.”

“Uh-huh. Ok, babe. Sure.” She rolled her eyes, but she was obviously just as happy as he was.

Diego turned to Five. “So, what happened? You just suddenly changed your mind, got your shit together, and decided to be a decent human being? Overnight?”

Five shrugged, reminding himself of Candy’s annoying habit. “Without going into the boring details, yes, that’s what happened. And I apologize for not being around more. But that’s going to change. I’m going to change.”

Diego raised a suspicious eyebrow at him. “Wow. I don’t know where this is coming from, but I’m happy. Like, really happy.” He grinned widely at Five. “I’ve missed you, buddy. We all have.”

“Speak for yourself!” Lila exclaimed from across the room.

Five turned towards her. “You know, Lila, you should really think about letting go of some of your anger. Try to be a little bit happier, sometimes.” As she looked at him like he was deranged, he mouthed “Fuck you” to her over Grace’s head. Lila just shook her head and smiled, glad to see that it wasn’t the end of the world after all.

Five stayed at the house for the rest of the morning. His other siblings trickled in, as well, and it eventually turned into another official Hargreeves’ family party. Seeing that their notoriously high-strung and unhinged brother was suddenly acting like a mostly sane person, they were obviously concerned. But after they realized he wasn’t going to suddenly snap or turn into a pod person, they all loosened up a little.

Klaus sidled up to him at one point, offering him a freshly made glass of Lila’s famously strong Christmas punch. Five waved him off, though.

“No, thanks. I’m not drinking today.”

“Uh, ex-squeeze me? Did you just turn down a drink? You know it has alcohol in it, right?”

Five laughed, a little embarrassed, and put his hands in his pockets. “I know. Just trying to turn over a new leaf.”

“Ohh…I get it. You met a girl, didn’t you?”

Five looked up at him in surprise. “Why would you say that?”

Klaus took a drink from his glass and grimaced at the strong mixture. “You hanging out with us, not drinking, being nice …it reeks of new girlfriend.”

“Huh. Well, in a way, yes. I mean, not a girlfriend, but there was a girl.”

“You should have brought her! I’d love to see what kind of woman managed to snag my darling, murderous brother.”

“I’m not sure that’s possible at the moment. But maybe someday. Stranger things have happened.”

🪽❤️🪽❤️🪽❤️🪽❤️🪽❤️🪽❤️🪽❤️🪽

“Gracie, honey, we’ve been here for thirty minutes. Pick a book, already.”

The little girl sighed and looked down at her pile on the children’s table where she and Five were seated. One of them comfortably so, the other scrunched up with his knees to his chest.

“But I can’t decide.”

“I told you, pick as many as you want.”

“Yes, but I want to make sure they’re the right ones. What if I get home and I change my mind?”

Five rolled his eyes and shifted in the tiny plastic chair. “Then I’ll return them. Or you can throw them out, I don’t care. My ass is falling asleep.”

Grace gave her uncle a disapproving look. “That’s a bad word.”

“Yes, it is. But if you don’t pick your books in the next five minutes, I’m going to say a lot of bad words.”

She sighed again, as if this was the most difficult decision in the world.

Five and Grace had spent the day together, just like they had once a month for the past six months. It was now July. July 3rd, to be exact, and they had opted for indoor activities to escape the oppressive heat of the city. Earlier, they had gone to the movie theater where Five sat through one of those horrible movies where they take real animals and CGI them into playing sports like soccer or basketball. Oh, and the animals talked, too. Completely asinine. It was ninety minutes of torture and Five wanted to stab his eyeballs out with Grace’s lemonade straw, but she giggled through the whole thing so he deemed it worth it in the end. Now they were at the bookstore next to the theater, where Five told her he would buy her some new books.

As he sat there with his expensive pants jammed into a chair in the children’s section, he decided he was going to give her about two more minutes before they were leaving. Books or no books. Who was he kidding…he’d probably sit there all day if it made her happy.

His young niece was about to say something to him, when Five snapped to attention and held his hand out for her to be quiet. He thought he had heard something. Something very familiar. But he was probably just going crazy.

“I think—”

“Shhh!” he hushed her again.

Grace sat back in her chair, arms folded across her chest with a pout. She did not like being quieted.

Five concentrated, listening for the sound he thought he had heard. There was nothing, though, which made a lot more sense, and his body relaxed again. He turned to Grace to apologize, but then he heard it again.

Those fucking bells.

It could have been anything, of course. The bells over the store door, or a baby’s toy. Maybe someone had their dog with them and its chain was jangling. But he would know that sound anywhere. He heard it in his sleep sometimes.

The sound seemed to be coming from a few aisles away. Five sprang out of his chair, his body stiff from being folded up like a pretzel for so long, and the chair tipped over behind him. Grace looked up at him, confused.

“Are we going? I haven’t made my decision yet.”

“Yes, come on. Just…grab all of them, let’s go.”

“But…”

Five groaned with his head back, wishing he could say what he really wanted to which was “Get the fuck up now.” Instead, he looked hastily around him at all the books on the shelves and on the table.

“Here.” He began scooping up piles of them, not even looking at the covers. He was grabbing four or five at a time off the shelves and balancing them in his arms. He shoved a couple at Grace, too. “We’ll just get all of them.”

Grace’s eyes widened. “All of them?”

“Yeah, sure. Come on, let’s go.”

With one arm full of random kid’s books, he held out his other hand for her to take. He all but pulled her arm out of the socket as he yanked her out of her chair.

“Ow!”

“Sorry, Gracie,” he mumbled, still dragging her behind him as she tried to keep up.

Five hurried through the store, looking frantically down each aisle. He couldn’t hear the bells anymore, and he was afraid maybe he was too late. But as they rounded a corner into the “Religion” section, he stopped. And stared.

There she was, just like he remembered her. She wasn’t wearing the slutty elf outfit, but her body was still as sexy as ever in a pair of small cut-off shorts and a tight, red tank top. Her long black hair was pulled back in a ponytail. She was looking over the back cover of a book in her hand, and Five could see she was smiling. Of course she was smiling.

Five walked slowly towards her, Grace still in tow. When she looked up, her smile grew bigger.

“I thought I told you to stop following me,” Five said with a smirk.

“Who says I’m following you? Don’t you believe in coincidences?”

Five shook his head. “Not really.”

Candy actually looked flustered and she chewed at her bottom lip. “It’s good to see you again.”

Five let out a sigh of relief. “It’s really good to see you.”

Candy looked down at Grace, who was staring up at her in curiosity, and then back at Five.

Five cleared his throat. “Oh, this is my niece. Grace. But you already know that, I guess.” He looked down at his niece. “This is a…friend of mine. Candy.”

Grace smiled shyly. Then she stuck out her hand and pointed at Candy’s wrist. “I like your bracelet.”

Five’s eyes were drawn to the jewelry at the same time Candy smiled down at Grace in return. “Thank you. It’s one of my favorites.”

Then she moved her wrist to show off the gold bracelet made up of tiny, jingling bells. The source of the bells Five had heard. He laughed, shaking his head and looking at the floor.

“I really hate that sound.”

“No you don’t.”

“You’re right, I don’t.”

There was an awkward pause, and Five glanced over at the book Candy had in her hand. The title was The Path To Enlightenment: Discovering Your Guardian Angel .

“Brushing up on things?” he asked, gesturing to the book.

“This? Oh no, this is what I read when I need a laugh. This whole section should be titled “Humor”. I mean, you should read some of the things they try and pass off as fact.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

Candy looked to the books Five was holding and pointed a finger at the top one on the stack. “I hear that’s a good one.”

Five looked down, seeing that one of the random books he’d pulled out was I Pooped on the Potty, And You Can Too! , complete with a drawing of a cartoon elephant sitting on a toilet. Five blushed, but then he laughed.

“Well, better late than never.”

Candy nodded. “Definitely.”

Five felt a tug on his hand and he looked at Grace, who was motioning with her index finger for him to lean in closer. He crouched down so he was at eye level, and she leaned in to whisper in his ear. Although, being a kid, the whole damn book store could have heard her whisper.

“She’s pretty.”

Five feigned surprised, then looked back up at Candy, then back at Grace. “You think so?”

Grace nodded. “You should take her on a date,” she whispered loudly and Five heard Candy giggle.

“What do you know about dates?”

“I know that girls like them because my mom always gets happy after my dad takes her somewhere to eat.”

Five nodded like he was mulling this over. “I see. So, I should ask her now?”

Grace nodded, her face serious. “If you want her to like you.”

When Five stood up, Candy was covering her mouth, trying not to laugh. Then she waited expectantly for whatever Five was going to say to her.

“My tiny wingman here has informed me that I should ask you on a date. Would you like that?”

Candy nodded. “I think I would, yes.”

“Would you like to come over to my brother’s house tomorrow? He’s having a family barbecue for the 4th. It will probably be a giant shit show, but I said I’d be there.”

“How could I pass that up? I would love to.”

When Five looked back down at Grace, she gave him a thumbs up. Then she sat on the floor to look at her books since her job as matchmaker was now done. He set his own books down and took a step closer to Candy, reaching out to touch her hand lightly, brushing his fingers over the back of her hand. He wanted to do a hell of a lot more than that, but seeing as how they were in a bookstore and his niece was present, he held himself back.

“I really missed you.”

“I missed you too, Five.”

“So, you’re here now? Permanently?”

She nodded. “I am. Thanks to you.”

“Why did it take so long? Where have you been?”

“Oh, I’ve been around. You needed some time to get things sorted out by yourself. But I’ve been keeping tabs on you.” She looked down at Grace. “Seems like you’ve got things figured out now.”

“Yeah, I think I do. Thank you.”

“Just part of the job.”

Five laughed and then reached up to gently tuck a stray piece of hair behind her ear. “I really want to kiss you again.”

“I would love that,” she breathed out.

He was about to lean in, when he stopped himself. “Wait. You’re not going to make me see anything weird again, are you?”

She shook her head. “No. I promise.”

“Good. Because I’ve had enough of that shit to last a lifetime.”

In a second, he was kissing her, softly and deeply, while he pulled her body in closer with an arm around her waist. He let out a sigh when he felt her fingers trace down the back of his neck. She felt and tasted just like he remembered and it was taking everything inside himself not to pull her down to the floor right there in the Religion section.

“Ew! Gross!”

Five pulled away, the disgusted sound of his niece snapping him out of his trance. Candy laughed and Five looked down at Grace, perturbed that she had abruptly turned from adorable wingman to major cock blocker. But he supposed this wasn’t the most appropriate place for a steamy make-out session anyway.

Five cleared his throat. “Well, I guess we should get going. I have to get her home.”

“Ok. I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”

Five nodded, gathering up his books again. “Oh, wait. I’m not very good at this dating thing, but don’t you need my phone number?”

Candy shook her head. “No, that’s ok. I know how to find you.”

Then, with a sly smile, she added “Oh, and Five? Keeping in the spirit of the holiday tomorrow…you can declare my independence anytime you want. Give me your John Han cock . If you’re up for it.”

With a slightly evil smile of his own, Five stepped in closer to her again, close enough to lean in next to her ear.

“Baby, the British won’t be the only ones that are coming. Not when you red, white, and blow me.”

Candy laughed loudly, her entire body shaking and her stupid bracelet jingling. Five just smirked and turned to walk away, holding his niece’s hand and feeling undeniably happy.

[basset-babe]

five times: the three point five.

pairing: benedict bridgerton x fem!reader

warnings: cursing, anger, frustration, maybe hurtful words, smut!, endearing names during, (semi?) public sex, praise, explicit language, fingering, societal pressure rant

word count: 3.2k+

a/n: heh i finished season 3 heh i'm in (series) bridgerton bliss heh so diz iz smut pls enjoy!

five times series: the first. the one point five. the second. the third. the three point five. the fourth. at last.

pattern banner from @cafekitsune thank you!

the three point five.

But it didn't feel right. Benedict just sinking down the velvet cushion chair, his mind stirred. He couldn't shake the feeling that he should do something, a sense of urgency gnawing at his insides.

With a sudden burst of determination, he shot up from the chair, nearly knocking over the glass of champagne on the near side table. Without a second glance at the luscious party or the puzzled expressions of the guests, he made a beeline for the door.

As Benedict pushed through onto the street, the cacophony of the party faded behind him. The crisp night air hit his face, sharpening his focus. He ignored the calls of their acquaintances and other partygoers who were gathered in the rooms, their faces blurred into indistinct shapes as he hurried past.

"Bridgerton! Where are you going?" someone shouted, but he paid no heed.

Benedict's footsteps quickened as he navigated through the dimly lit streets, each step a beat in the frantic rhythm of his heart. The city around him seemed a world apart from the glittering townhouse he had left behind. Here, shadows loomed large, and the quiet was punctuated only by the distant sounds of life continuing in other corners of the city. He scanned the shadows, heart pounding. Y/N was here somewhere. He just knew it.

"Y/N!" he called out, his voice breaking the stillness. No response. He took a few steps further into the garden, the soft crunch of gravel under his feet the only sound accompanying him.

"Y/N, please!" he called again, louder this time, desperation edging his tone. Still, nothing. The garden seemed vast and empty, the shadows playing tricks on his eyes.

Then, by the shops, he saw her silhouette. She was by a lamp post with her back to him, shoulders stiff, her cloaked figure barely illuminated by the moonlight filtering through the trees. He felt a pang of guilt and longing. He had to make this right.

"Y/N," he said once more, softer now, as if speaking too loudly would shatter her already fragile state. He took a hesitant step towards her. "Please, just listen to me."

She didn’t move, didn’t turn to face him. Her silence, heavy and palpable, filled the space between them, echoing louder than any words she could have spoken. The memory of their confrontation at the party played over and over in his mind – the sting of her harsh words, the intensity of her anger, the rawness of her hurt. Each moment replayed like a relentless loop, haunting him with regret. He longed to rewind time, to undo the pain he had caused.

The gossip sheet had been the final straw. His name splashed across the scandalous pages, seen kissing Lady Arnold, while all of the ton knew he was actively courting Miss Y/N. The look on her face when she saw it had been devastating. Accusations flew, voices rose, and the bitter sting of betrayal hung in the room air.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice trembling. "I never meant to hurt you. Please, Y/N, look at me."

She remained motionless, her back still to him, the tension between them palpable, hanging heavy in the air like an unspoken accusation. Benedict hesitated, each step closer feeling like a tentative negotiation with the silence that enveloped them. He paused a moment, weighing his next move, acutely aware of the fragile thread that still tethered them together.

As he stood there, uncertainty gnawed at him. He wanted to bridge the distance, to erase the hurt that lay between them. Yet, the fear of shattering what little remained held him back. His hand hovered in the air, fingers twitching with the desire to reach out and comfort, to mend the rift he had unwittingly deepened.

But words failed him, swallowed by the weight of their shared history and the unspoken emotions that lingered in the space between them. Benedict searched for a way to break the silence, to convey the depths of his regret without risking further damage. Each heartbeat stretched the moment, until finally, he found his voice, tentative and raw with emotion.

"Lady Arnold and I… we shared a brief dalliance. It was a period of self-discovery for me," He elucidated regarding his now scandalized association. "There came a time when she developed feelings for me, but I reveled in my independence. That was until I became utterly captivated by you. When I saw you for the first time, I was astonished to see your family amongst the ton, but never did I anticipate encountering you, Y/N. With your grace and beauty so exquisite, you appeared beyond my grasp, yet I felt compelled to pursue you nonetheless."

Y/N felt a tempest of emotions swirling within her as she absorbed his words. She took a deep, steadying breath before responding, trying to calm her racing heart. "I... I find myself at a loss for words. Your candor has always been something I admired, and I am grateful for your honesty. But this revelation is quite overwhelming and rather sudden."

He took a step closer, his eyes fervently searching hers for understanding. "I am fully aware of how daunting this must be, but I could no longer keep my feelings concealed. Meeting you altered the very fabric of my existence. Lady Arnold is a relic of my past, but you... you embody my present and my future."

Y/N's words spilled forth in a torrent of anger and frustration, her voice trembling with emotion. "But what of the scandal? The relentless gossip of the ton? I am but a woman, Benedict. The ton is far less forgiving to me than it is to you!" Her frustration simmered beneath the surface, barely contained. "You must understand, my reputation hangs by a thread. A single misstep, and I am cast aside, deemed unworthy of respect. Society demands I conform, be a paragon of virtue, a mere homemaker, and nothing more. My worth reduced to how well I can maintain a household, marry advantageously, and produce heirs."

She paced with agitation, each step a declaration of defiance against societal expectations. "You, as a man, have the luxury of making mistakes, of being celebrated as a rogue in drawing rooms and clubs. Meanwhile, every action of mine is scrutinized, dissected, and condemned. Stepping outside the bounds of propriety threatens not just my reputation but my very existence in this suffocating world. The ton is merciless to women who dare to challenge its rigid norms."

Y/N paused, her eyes flashing with unshed tears of anger and injustice. "I am constantly reminded that my sole purpose is to secure a respectable marriage, to be a submissive wife and dutiful mother. Any ambition beyond that is deemed scandalous, improper. The freedom you take for granted is a distant dream for me, a privilege I may never attain. Do you comprehend the weight of all this? To defy this conservative society is a battle for my very identity, for my right to exist as more than society's pawn!" Her voice cracked with raw emotion, the depth of her anger laid bare. The enormity of the challenge ahead loomed large, and she awaited Benedict's response with a mixture of defiance and vulnerability, daring him to understand the gravity of her plight.

Benedict's eyes locked onto hers with unwavering resolve, "I understand the gravity of what you are saying, Y/N. The societal constraints placed upon you are both unjust and formidable. The double standards are abhorrent, and I cannot pretend to fully comprehend the weight you bear."

He took her hands in his, his voice gentle yet firm. "But know this: I do not take lightly what I am asking of you. I see your strength, your intelligence, and your grace, all of which transcend the narrow confines society seeks to impose upon you. You are so much more than a mere homemaker, and you deserve to be seen and valued for all that you are."

Benedict paused, his eyes softening as he continued. "I cannot change the society we live in overnight, but I can promise you that I will stand by your side through the whispers of this very scandal. We will face the ton together, and I will protect your honor and dignity with every fiber of my being."

He gently clasped her hand, his touch a balm to her anxiety. "Let them gossip and speculate. I am prepared to face any adversity, endure any scandal, if it means I can be with you."

Y/N met his intense gaze, searching for any trace of doubt. "Are you genuinely ready for that? To withstand the scrutiny and judgment? For once we embark on this path, there will be no retreat."

He squeezed her hand, his resolve unwavering. "I am more ready than ever. You are worth every challenge, every whispered condemnation. I love you, Y/N. And I am resolved to fight for us, regardless of the cost--"

Benedict's intent profession of his love was cut as Y/N kissed him. His eyes widened in shock but closed as he felt her soft wine-tinged lips in his.

His initial shock melted into a surge of warmth that spread through his entire being. For a fleeting moment, the world around them faded into insignificance, leaving only the sensation of her touch and the taste of her on his lips.

He fervently responded to her kiss, his hands instinctively finding hers, pulling her closer. The moment seemed suspended in time, filled with the heady mix of desire and tenderness. His mind raced with unspoken words of love, now rendered unnecessary by this spontaneous and passionate gesture from Y/N.

As their kiss deepened, Benedict's senses heightened, acutely aware of every detail—the softness of her lips, the faint floral scent of her hair, the warmth of her breath mingling with his. It was a dance of intimacy, a silent exchange of emotions that spoke volumes beyond any words could convey.

Their surroundings faded into obscurity as Benedict and Y/N surrendered to the intoxicating pull of their embrace. The cool touch of the ivy-surrounded shop door against Y/N's back contrasted with the warmth radiating from Benedict's body, igniting a fire of desire between them.

Benedict, towering over her with a commanding presence, deepened the kiss with a hunger that mirrored his longing. His hands, large and gentle, roamed with purpose—tracing the curve of her waist, skimming along her spine, sending shivers of anticipation through her body.

Y/N's own hands trembled as they explored Benedict's form, fingers threading through the soft strands of his hair and tracing the strong lines of his jaw. Every touch was electric, every caress a testament to their shared passion and unspoken yearning.

Their kiss deepened further, each tender exploration of lips and tongues igniting passion that neither could deny. Benedict's hands, firm yet gentle, explored the contours of Y/N's body with a reverence born of adoration and desire. His fingertips traced the curve of her back, eliciting a soft gasp from her as he pulled her closer, molding their bodies together in a seamless fit.

Y/N's back pressed against the cool wood of the shop door, a stark contrast to the heat that surged between them. She felt the solid strength of Benedict's chest against hers, his heartbeat echoing her own racing pulse. Her hands, trembling with need, traced the strong lines of his shoulders, then slid down his chest, feeling the rhythmic rise and fall of his breath.

Their bodies pressed closer together, the urgency of their desire palpable in the air. Benedict's lips continued their trail of heated kisses, moving from Y/N's chin to the curve of her neck, where he traced delicate patterns with the tip of his tongue. Benedict moved her cloak aside and her sleeve down. His hands, strong and possessive, slid down her back, pulling her hips against his with an unspoken need.

Y/N's breath hitched as she felt friction between them, her fingers threading through Benedict's hair, urging him closer. Each sensation, from the soft pressure of his lips to the warmth of his touch, sent waves of pleasure coursing through her veins. She surrendered to the overwhelming intensity of their connection, her own hands exploring the contours of his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her touch.

Lost in the haze of desire, Benedict whispered words of adoration against her skin, his voice husky with longing. "Be mine," he breathed, his lips trailing back up to capture hers in a searing kiss. Their mouths melded together hungrily, tongues tangling in a dance, igniting sparks of electricity that seemed to arc between them. In that moment, beneath the canopy of ivy and flowers, they were consumed by the passion that had simmered between them for so long. It was a moment of surrender, of giving in to the primal need that bound them together, transcending any societal expectations or judgments.

Time seemed to stand still as they reveled in the ecstasy of each other's touch, their bodies moving in a symphony of desire and longing. Benedict's touch leaves a trail of goosebumps in its wake. He savored the taste of her lips, the intoxicating scent of her skin, imprinting every sensation into his memory.

Y/N's leg gracefully lifted, curling around Benedict's side as she drew herself closer to him, as if wishing to remove space around them for the nth time. His hand gently traced the edge of her skirt, his gaze meeting hers as her kiss-dazed eyes fluttered open. Their eyes remained locked, speaking volumes in the silent exchange of desire. With a nod of affirmation, she conveyed her consent. Benedict's expression held a mixture of reverence and need, his movements careful and deliberate as he lifted her leg slightly, allowing his touch to travel further up, tracing the intricate patterns of her stockings.

Benedict's touch was tender, his fingers tracing the delicate lace that adorned the edge of Y/N's stockings. The fabric was smooth beneath his touch, a contrast to the warmth of her skin as his hand moved upward with a feather-light caress. Y/N's breath caught in anticipation, her heartbeat quickening with each gentle stroke along her thigh.

Y/N's lips parted slightly, a soft moan escaping as she leaned closer to him, her hand finding its way to rest against his chest. The sensation of his fingers against her skin sent a shiver down her spine, igniting a deeper yearning within her. Y/N bit her lip to suppress her soft whimpers as Benedict's fingers touched her velvet core. "I have never been touched...like this." Y/N says in between catching her breath and quieting herself down.

As her chemise rose, granting Benedict to caress her already dripping entrance, "Never?" He asks as he withdraws his hand from her skirts and licks his glistening slick-coated fingers, "But you taste so sweet like ambrosia, my lady. So delectable, all this nectar for me to savour." He smirks as his flustered lady hangs her mouth agape at his provocative statement.

"Well, I haven't--I never really...I just--" Y/N blushes and fails to complete her words as she looks at the handsome gentleman basking in her virgin sex. Benedict's lips curved into a knowing smile as he pressed against hers with a fervent intensity. His index finger trails the sensitive bud down towards teasing her entrance. Y/N moans in their kiss as her state rendered her sensitive. Her hand grasps his arm as Benedict rubs her clit in circular motions.

"Such a goddess, my darling, my muse." Benedict whispers in her ear as their kiss breaks and Y/N breaths harder, pressing her cheek by Benedict's ear where he can, now, hear her suppressed moans and hitched breaths as she feels pure ecstasy under his touch.

"Ben-Bendict, what is happen-happening to me?" She whispers as she feels her abdomen in knots as he rubs faster. "Let it go, love. Finish for me." Benedict says as he notices you swell on his fingertips. Y/N mind buzzes listlessly as she reaches her climax. Her hips bucking as Benedict now inserts two digits in her cunt leaving Y/N mewling as his fingers speed up, thumb circling her clit, the others buried as far as he can as she rides her high.

Her body surrenders to the rising tide within. With eyes tightly closed, Y/N utter Benedict's name as her core begins to pulse around his touch, her hands grabbing tightly, her every muscle tensing. Her hips arch once more, swept away as the crescendo washes over.

A dribble of wetness runs down Benedict's palm, Y/N's chemise and thighs as the lady feels her mind float away. Distantly, she can hear him speaking, but it’s fuzzy as she catches her breath remembering they are still by the shop door near the square. Satiated, Y/N slowly brings her leg down but too shaky to balance.

Y/N is startled as a warm hand circles her waist, bringing her abruptly back into reality. Benedict looms over her, shielding her to any passerby, with his chest heaving, too. The two were lucky that it's quite possibly the dead of night. No one could've seen what ecstatic pleasure just unfolded between them at all.

As they finally parted, breathless and flushed with desire, Benedict gazed into Y/N's eyes with newfound reverence. "Y/N," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion, "I never knew I could feel this way. You've utterly bewitched me." With gentle care, he rolled up her sleeves and adjusted her cloak, his fingers lingering on the fabric as if reluctant to let her go.

Y/N followed his hands, then met his gaze, her eyes glassy and her cheeks tinted with a delicate blush. She could feel the intensity of the moment, the weight of their pining hanging in the air. "And you've captured me in ways I never imagined possible, Benedict," she murmured, her voice trembling with her throat dry. Her heart pounded in her chest, a wild rhythm that echoed her racing thoughts.

"The Bridgertons are hosting a ball in a few days' time, and I know you will be attending," he said, his voice a mix of hope and yearning. Y/N nodded in response, her heart pounding in anticipation. "Might I have the honor of a dance, my lady?"

Y/N amusingly quipped, "Of course—just as long as you promise not to step on my toes."

Benedict chuckled, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "I promise to let you lead, as long as you promise me one thing," he said, leaning in closer, his breath warm against her skin.

"And what might that be?" she asked, her curiosity piqued, her pulse quickening.

"Save me every dance," he whispered, his words carrying the weight of his desire, sending a delightful shiver down her spine. The intensity of his gaze made her feel like the only woman in the world.

With a playful smile, she replied, "Only if you promise to sweep me off my feet."

Benedict's smile widened, his heart swelling with joy. "It's a promise, my lady," he vowed, his voice low and filled with promise.

Their laughter mingled together, a harmonious blend of shared joy and anticipation, as they contemplated the upcoming ball—a night destined to overflow with enchantment, passion, and moments that quicken the heart. The atmosphere hummed with unspoken sentiments and burgeoning emotions, each glance and touch affirming the deepening connection between them.

The two walked to the street corner as a footman was hailed for Y/N's carriage. As Benedict took her hand to bid farewell as the carriage arrived, he brought her knuckles to his lips, brushing a tender kiss across it. "Until then," he said softly, his eyes never leaving hers.

"Until then," she echoed, her voice a whisper of promise.

taglist: @novausstuff // @pussyslayerhd // @amoosarte // @jupitervenusearthmars // @shonteriasunshine // @melsunshine // @bollzinurmouth // @kneelforloki // @reiluvr // @eddiiiieeee // @wishyoudaskme // @caspianobsessed

again, please do send me a message or comment down if you would like to be added on the succeeding taglists for the five times series! thanks loves <3!

[carlottawllms]

Yours For The Night

Mason Mount x Reader Fluff / Maybe a tiny bit angst-ish Word Count:

I loved the idea from the very beginning and I fell in love with the story and the characters very quickly while writing this so I hope you'll love it just as much. I'm rather proud of this one!

As always, feedback is very much appreciated! Enjoy 🩷

Being single at the age of 23 could be daunting. Not in principle, because at 23 there was still a whole life ahead of you, but when all your friends were in committed relationships whilst you weren't, the doubts started to set in.

Doubt that there actually was this one person who was only meant for you. Doubt that you would ever find someone who wanted you for who you were. Doubt that you were good enough.

Technically, there was this pretty simple solution to the problem: dating. However, you’d quickly realised that it wasn't that easy after all.

Looking around your circle of friends was out of the question as either they were all taken or they were so out of your league, that you hardly dared to talk to them even without the whole dating thing in the back of your mind.

And dating apps scared the shit out of you.

But if you didn't want to stay alone forever, something had to change. So after a lot of back and forth and a lot of convincing by your best friend Laure, you’d decided to take the risk and sign up there after all.

And that was why you found yourself in a nice, cozy restaurant on a random Friday evening with a handsome young man right opposite you. Dark hair steel blue eyes and a handsome smile: Ethan.

It was going great. Surprisingly so as you always thought of yourself as an awkward person when it came to first encounters, but either you weren’t half as bad as you thought you were or Ethan was very good in pretending.

Conversation was flowing freely, and you could’ve really enjoyed it if it wasn't for Lewis constantly calling you. It was the third time you rejected the call and apologised to Ethan before turning your phone around.

“You can answer that.”, he smiled. “Honestly, it could be an emergency for all you know.”

“No, I…it’s my best friend’s brother. They’re getting ready for erm…well something like a night out. He probably just wants me to approve of the outfits or something.”, you mumbled, cheeks red from embarrassment.

“Look, y/n”, your date sighed, and you feared the worst when he placed his hand over yours. “At this point, even I’d feel better if you answered and made sure everything’s alright, you know? C’mon, just call him back.”

You hesitated for a moment, wondering if he actually meant it or not because so far you really liked him and you didn’t want to mess it up, but Ethan’s reassuring smile convinced you eventually.

“Lew? You’ve called like 5 times, is everything okay?”, you asked once he’d answered the call after the first ring.

“Yes…no, I mean…it’s a little complicated. No one’s hurt, it’s just…”

“Just tell me, Lewis. What’s going on? Aren’t you supposed to get Mase ready for that gala?”

Tonight was Manchester United’s annual awards gala. You had no idea what exactly it was about, but Mason had told you that he was nominated for the New-Player-Of-The-Season award and as far as you were informed, he had to leave for that in about an hour.

“Yeah, that’s erm…look, I can’t explain that on the phone. Can you come?”

“What? No, Lew, I’m on-”

“I wouldn’t call if it wasn’t important.”, Lewis sighed. He sounded defeated and a little desperate and it appealed to your guilty conscience. He really wouldn't call if it wasn't important, you knew that and you felt as if you didn’t really have a chance to say no…

“Yeah okay.”, you agreed and after a few more words the call ended.

You sighed quietly, gaze dropping to your empty plate before you found the courage to look your date in the eye. “Look, Ethan, this erm looks really bad, I know, but-”

“It actually is an emergency, and you have to leave?”, he offered. The soft smile still on his face even after you nodded. “That’s fine, please don’t worry. I’ve been dumped for less, you know?”

“No, I…God. I’m so sorry. This really isn’t what it looks like. I-”

“I was joking, y/n.”, he laughed. “Honestly, it’s fine. You go and take care of that emergency of yours and I’ll message you so we can reschedule. Okay?”

“You’re sure?”, you pouted. “Because I really enjoyed today.”

“So did I. C’mon, off you go. I promise I’ll message you.”

Ethan even offered to pay for your drinks, so you could leave quickly, but you rejected his offer. The idea of him paying for the date when you had to leave less than an hour after you’d arrived didn’t sit right with you, so after you’d paid for your part and said goodbye, you rushed over to Mason’s.

As the restaurant Ethan had chosen wasn’t too far away from where Mason lived it took less than 20 minutes until you arrived. With shaky fingers you entered the code for the gate. Ignoring the fact you’d parked as badly as never in your life before, you jumped out of the car and made your way up to his front door.

“Hi, y/n.” Lewis offered a small smile, but it didn’t hide the distraught look on his face. “Thank you for coming.”

“Well, you said it’s an emergency.”, you mumbled as you followed him into the living room where Mason was slumped in the corner of the sofa. His white shirt wrinkled, hair looking as if he’d run his hands through it for the past 20 minutes and cheeks bright red.

You furrowed your brows at the state of your best friend.

“What’s wrong? He was so excited when I talked to him this morning. Also, where’s Alyssa? Wasn’t she supposed to be here already?”

Mason only scoffed at your words and mumbled something you didn’t quite catch under his breath.

Alyssa was his girlfriend of a few months now. From what he’d told you, they’d met on the set of the Nike shooting. She was some sort of assistant and with her witty and fun nature, had captured Mason’s interest straight away.

You’d only met her a handful of times, but she seemed decent and made your best friend happy and that really was everything you wanted for him.

“Actually, that is the emergency.”, Lewis sighed. “She’s not coming.”

“What do you mean she’s not coming? She seemed to be okay yesterday, is she sick or something?”

“No, she…she called him earlier and told him she won’t show up with him.”

Eyes widening, you stared at Lewis. Your tummy did a weird nauseating flip at his choice of words. She won’t show up with him. What was that supposed to mean?

“I…sorry what? I don’t get wha-”

“Well, she said that…erm…I don’t…” The way Lewis stumbled over his words had your heart sinking in your chest in fear.

Mason was a funny guy, someone who was rarely in a bad mood or sad, but you were close enough to him to know that deep down, his heart was pretty fragile. He was a sensitive person, took things to heart way too quickly and whilst he’d never admit that, his failed relationship before and the way some girls used him for getting some, had done some damage to his self-esteem.

“You can tell her, Lew.”, Mason laughed hollowly. “It’s not like I have to hide anything from y/n. She said I’m not fancy enough to show up there with me and that I’m too childish for her liking and that she'd rather save herself the embarrassment of being photographed with someone who doesn’t act like a grown-up half the time.”

The more he spoke, the more your heart broke. Not just because she’d said all that, but because you knew he believed it and with every passing second the anger grew in the pit of your stomach.

There were only a few things that made you furious, but people talking badly about Mason were where you drew the line and you had to take a couple of deep breaths to compose yourself.  

Lewis seemed to notice the state you were in. With a gentle squeeze of your shoulder, he made you look at him.

“He doesn’t want to go anymore, and I was hoping you could talk to him? It’s his first gala and no matter how shit the circumstances, it won’t look good if-”

“I’m right here, you know? I can hear you.”, Mason hissed, rolling his eyes at his brother’s behaviour. He was over it. Over everything and all he wanted to do was get out of these clothes and into bed.

“You know what won’t look good?”, he asked with a sneer. “Me. Everyone’s bringing the missus. What’s it gonna look like when I don’t bring my girlfriend after I told them I would?”

“Mase, I’m sure there’s others who will attend alone.”, you said softly as you sat down next to him. Turning your body so you could face him a bit better, your hand found its way into his hair. “It’s not going to look bad or whatever you think it might. Didn’t you say Luke would come alo-”

“I’m not going, y/n.”, he huffed, pushing your hand away in annoyance.

“Mase, you-”

“No, y/n. I am not going. End of story.”, he hissed. “I will look like the biggest idiot. An empty seat next to me like…”

Knowing it would be a futile attempt to try and convince him to go alone, you shot Lewis a look. Wordlessly asking if he couldn’t just join his brother, but he shook his head.

“I have a meeting in an hour.”

“Look, there’s no need to baby me. I’ll just tell them I’m sick and stay back. They can hand me the award next week or something, it’s not that important.”

It was a lie, you knew that as you remembered how excited and over the moon Mason had been when he’d called you a few days ago to tell you that he’d won. He hadn’t stopped talking about how honoured and happy he was and it only made you even more furious. There was no way you’d let a shitty woman ruin that for him.

“You should go, y/n. Don’t you have a date to go to anyway?”

“Well, I actually was on that date when Lewis called.”, you admitted. The latter shot you an alarmed look.

“You didn’t say any-”

“I mean, you said it was an emergency, so I obviously left.”, you explained softly. You could feel Mason’s eyes on you before he dropped his head.

“You shouldn’t have, y/n.”, he sighed. “Maybe you can call him and see if he’s still free for tonight? Sorry for the fuss, I’ll just go and get changed.”

“Yeah, into a new shirt cause this one’s all wrinkled.”, you laughed quietly as you smoothed over the sleeve of his bunched-up shirt.

“I already said I’m not going, I-”

“Yes, yes you are, Mason.”, you smiled as you got up to stand in front of him. Hands out for him to take, but he only looked up at you with that stubborn look on his face. “This is such an honour for you and you were so happy about it and you won’t let anyone ruin that for you. Go and get changed.”

Wiggling your fingers, you eventually got him to grab your hands and get off the sofa, but he still shook his head. A sad smile on his face.

“y/n, I appreciate that pep-talk and you coming here, but I can’t go. I refuse to look stupid by showing up there all by myself.”

“Well, you won’t look stupid because you won’t show up by yourself.”, you smiled.

For the last two minutes you’d been racking your brain to find a solution, only to suddenly realise that the solution was actually hanging in the wardrobe upstairs.

“I still have my dress from Dec’s wedding in your wardrobe. I’ll be your plus one. If you’ll have me.”

Mason furrowed his brows. You could literally see the cogs turning in his head. “What? y/n, I told them I’ll bring my girlfriend.”

“Look, Mase this is a big night for you, and I don’t want you to miss it because of a stupid bitch. You told me they don’t know her and obviously they don’t know me either, so for tonight you can introduce me to them.”

You were aware that it sounded a little insane and the aftermath would probably be a little complicated, but you were willing to do it for him. He was your best friend and he’d worked hard for this achievement. He deserved the award, and you wanted him to show up there and enjoy the evening, instead of wondering what everybody thought about his missing girlfriend.

“y/n, that’s insane.”, he whispered, but in his eyes you could see the gratitude you’d even proposed it. “Are you sure?”

“I am, Mase.”, you smiled and when he pulled you into a tight hug and whispered a very quiet thank you, you knew he was sold.

-

As you’d already been somewhat dressed up for your date, it hadn’t taken you too long to get ready, so you and Mason managed to arrive at the venue on time.

“You’re ready for this?”, Mason asked softly once he’d parked the car.

He turned towards you a little so he could get a good look at you, his hand sneaking on your thigh to give it a gentle squeeze. Obviously, he was grateful you were doing this but at the same time he was also a little worried.

“We kinda have to pretend we’re a couple and I need you to tell me when it gets too much, okay? I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

“I could never be uncomfortable around you, Mase.”, you admitted, making him blush a little. “It’ll be fine. You’re my best friend, Mase. I trust you.”

After a few more words, he eventually got out of the car, rounded it and opened your door to help you out. You gladly grabbed his outstretched hand to avoid falling flat on your face in these murderous heels of yours.

“Ready to go and get to know everyone?”

You wouldn’t tell him, but all of sudden, your heart had stared to beat out of your chest from nerves. “What if they don’t like me?”

“That, my love, is a very ridiculous question.”, Mason laughed. He softly cupped your cheek with his hand to force your gaze on his. “They will obviously love you. You’re this kind and funny person and I don’t know anyone who doesn’t like you. Also they’re pretty fun to be around, you’ll get along with them just fine. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“I’ll be with you the whole time, I promise.” Mason kissed your forehead in reassurance and pulled back again to search your face for some doubts or worries, but much to his relief he couldn’t find any. Your bright eyes simply stared back into his.

“C’mon then.” He grabbed your hand in his, fingers hesitantly pushing in between yours and when you smiled up at him, his tummy flipped.

Fortunately, there were no paparazzi at the entrance, so you were able to slip into the restaurant unnoticed. The club’s own photographer Mick welcomed you and asked you to pose for a photo and without even thinking about it, you and Mason stood side by side and smiled for the camera.

His arm was wrapped around your waist and whilst he’d done that countless of times before, this time it felt a little more intimate. But maybe it was only because of the thought that for everyone else you looked like a couple tonight.

“Mase, hi.” Erik was the first to see the two of you. With a woman you thought had to be his wife, he came over.

“Hi, you’re alright?”, Mason smiled as he greeted his manager with a half-hug. “Erik, this is y/n.”

“Pleasure to meet you.”, you smiled, shaking his hand.

“Oh, it’s all mine. Thank you for taking such good care of him and supporting him. This is my wife Bianca.”

As you exchanged a couple of words with them, you felt Mason’s hand grabbing yours and giving it a gentle squeeze, wordlessly asking if you were alright.

The time until dinner passed surprisingly quickly. As promised, Mason didn't leave you alone once while you gradually got to know his teammates and their partners and although there was no real need for it, he always touched you in some way. His arm around your waist, his hand on the small of your back or his hand clasped tightly around yours with his thumb rubbing circles into your smooth skin.

The two of you were sat on a table with Rasmus, Christian and Victor and as they’d all brought their partners, you realised quickly why Mason had been so adamant on not going on his own. He definitely wouldn’t have looked stupid but knowing him he wouldn’t have felt comfortable at all, whilst now he was joking away with his friends whilst you got to know the other women.

Throughout the whole dinner you chatted and laughed with them and at some point you forgot that you weren’t actually Mason’s girlfriend and therefore wouldn’t be present for more of these events.

Mason on the other hand couldn’t stop looking at you from the corner of his eye. You looked beautiful in that dress he’d lost his head over on Dec’s wedding already and the way you smiled brightly and seemed to get along so well with everyone had his head spinning.

You weren’t his, he knew that, but he’d spent the last 30 minutes thinking about how you’d abandoned all plans to be with him and couldn’t help but be all soft for you. You’d left your date for him and even when he’d told you to message the guy, you’d opted to spend the evening with him.

After dinner there was still a little time before the awards would be presented and you’d decided to mingle with some of the other people around. You’d left Mason with some of his teammates to go and freshen up a little, but as you came back now, he seemed to be in deep conversation with Luke and you were unsure of whether to join them.

You’d clung to his side basically all evening as despite getting along with the others, you weren’t comfortable enough to be with them all by yourself, but you didn’t want to annoy Mason. He’d been pretty open with his touching behaviour, but there was still some hesitation from your side.

You scanned the room, thinking of just joining Laura for a chat, but before you actually could, Mason had noticed you and made eye contact. His signature smile ever present on his face. Slowly, you walked over, giving him the chance to shake his head no, but the closer you got, the brighter his smile seemed to get.

“Hi.”, he whispered when you cuddled into his side. “You’re okay?”

“Yeah, sure. Everyone’s really nice.”

“Told you.”, he chuckled before leaning down and kissing your cheek. It was something he’d sort of done before but this time, it made you blush like mad and when his arm snuck around your waist and pulled you into his side a little more, you had to drop your head to avoid Luke noticing how flustered you were.

Mason had always been a touchy person and you’d never paid much attention to it because it was just who he was, but tonight it was…more intimate, maybe even meaningful. You weren’t even sure if you were only fooling yourself, but it felt as if the air had shifted, and it was starting to mess with your head.

You’d never thought of Mason as anything else but your best friend, but now that it felt so natural to be with him, cuddle him and hold his hand, you couldn’t help but think of him as more than that. Especially, as you realised only today just how attuned you were to one another.

Pretending to be in a relationship was always risky as there were enough moments where one could slip, but for the two of you none of these moments had happened. Rather the opposite as it looked as if you’d been together forever.

Mason had you back to your table at some point as the awards were about to be handed out and when he was called up on the little stage to receive his well-deserved trophy, you had to wipe a few tears of happiness and pride off your cheek.

About an hour later, the evening was pretty much over. Most people had already left, and you and Mason had made it out too, but after spending all evening inside, you’d decided to stay outside for a little longer and go for a walk before driving home.

You hadn’t made it too far when Mason tugged on your hand and held you back. Confused, you furrowed your brows at him as he came to a stop and pulled you to stand right in front of him.

“I’m sorry I ruined your date.”, he said quietly. His big brown eyes were set on yours, apologetic and full of worry. “I realised I didn’t apologise for that before and neither for how I acted at home and practically forced you into this.”

Not really thinking about it – tonight had messed with his head a lot – he gently pushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His fingertips just about brushing over the soft skin on your neck leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“You don’t have to apologise, Mase.”, you smiled. “I actually didn’t mind it at all. I enjoyed tonight a lot.”

“Yeah?”, he whispered as a cute blush coated his freckled cheeks and the bridge of his nose. He wasn’t sure if you were referring to what it felt like to be with him, but deep down he hoped you were.

Staring into his eyes, you nodded slowly. Throughout the whole night, the air had shifted significantly and now it seemed to have found its peak. The eye contact was intense and made your tummy churn, but it was when Mason’s gaze dropped to your lips, that your heart flipped.

“Do you think, I-”

“Yes.”, you breathed, knowing exactly what he wanted to ask and when you tilted your head a little and Mason leaned down, your lips met in a shy and soft, but perfect kiss.

—————

I genuinely hope you enjoyed reading this. You would make my day if you left a little feedback so I can see what you liked and what I can improve on 🩷

[misty--nights]

So I'm watching the show yet again (usually I struggle watching shows, I don't know how I've managed to watch it twice already and still want to watch it a third time), and here are some things that I've noticed in episode 1, after the read more because it got longer than expected.

Charles calls himself the brawn and the protector of the two, but it's Edwin who goes all serious and says "I would not let that happen" when Charles asks what they'd do if Death came for them. I'm sure/concerned that he'd try to fight her if she ever came to take them...

Edwin knits!! When they are wearing their disgusses to get the demon out of Crystal he knitts while Charles reads the newspaper. Granted, you can only see him doing for a short moment, so I don't know if he's doing it properly, but I like to think he is. I have many thoughts about this, but it would take over the whole post. I'm still willing to make a whole post for it if anyone is interested but yeah. Bottom line is, Edwin can knitt!

The tone of voice that Crystal uses when she first wakes up in the Agency and in her walk with Charles is really different to the tone she uses the rest of the season. In hindsight, it's pretty obvious that is her mean girl tone, but still, I just think it's a nice detail.

Edwin takes Crystal's coffee cup when she takes the mail? We've just stablished he's not going to drink it, so is he just being petty? Is he going to throw it away or hide it just to be a nuisance? Is he investigating what she got? This boy, I swear...

I know people have pointed out all the Clue boards in the closet, but there's also a ouija board there? Hilarious. Maybe some ghosts prefer communicating with that instead of speaking? Or Charles got it because he thought it was funny and then never got rid of it?

I like that the thing that convinces Edwin to take the Becky Aspen case is Charles asking if he's going to let a little girl die. But more importantly, the title card right after that says "three flights". I've had this question for a bit, but what do they do during those flights? Do the boys spend those just standing in the hallway next to Crystal's seat? Do they sit in the cockpit? Do they hide in the bathroom until someone comes to use it? Do they hope for empty seats they can use? I don't know, every possible version of their trip is so funny to me. I know ghosts don't get tired like alive people, but the idea of them just standing awkwardly off to the side for more than 10 hours is hilarious.

No big detail here, I just love Crystal's purple coat thing she wears in this episode. Never really noticed that it has like flowers embroidered at the bottom, and the color of the whole thing is so nice.

"Maybe he's our fucking demon now." Crystal I love you, that is one of the funniest lines in the episode. I also really like that she gets to be angry and scared. Even if later Jenny talks her down from the worst it, it's not her anger that she points out, it's the fact that people are just like that and how the boys act is nothing personal. Her anger is not directly attacked (except by Edwin, but that's just him being petty), because she gets to be angry about all that's happening to her.

The flashback to Edwin's life at St. Hilarion's changes the video aspect (is that the proper term for that? It makes the screen square like in older films is what I mean.) Also he card for that flasback specifies "Edwardian England" even while having the date at the bottom. I don't know, it made me chuckle that they felt the need to clarify the era even while having the date there. They don't put "modern day England" for Crystal's flashback.

With the way the cat reacted to the sardine, I'm willing to bet he would have told Edwin everything without the binding spell if Edwin had a few more fish for him.

When they're talking behind the shop and Crystal says she gets angry, Charles looks down and takes a bit to respond. I think this is the first time he relates to her. The first time he can call that pull twards her something more than mere attraction. He has this very vulnerable look when she says it and then immediately shows her his parents and tells her something he's never told anyone before? This boy saw his anger in someone else and thought maybe it's fine for him to be angry too.

Is it a trick of the light in the scene where she meets Niko, or does Crystal have a septum piercing?

"If you're sticking around, you gotta let us in." Charles, I love you, but you are the last person who should be saying this. Specially after that sad look he gets when Crystal says it must be hard not being able to talk or hug his parents. You just agreed to what she said, as if that were the truth of why you check on them, what do you mean "you gotta let us in"? (I do get that they haven't known each other for long so he's not going to open up about all his trauma, but precisely because of that, it's wild for him to expect her to do it.)

I never noticed Charles quickly returning the mirror to normal when Edwin comes. I'd noticed the audio cue for the mirror changing back, but I never noticed Charles moving to do it and he looks so panicked about it.

Considering how Edwin is about touch, the fact that he lets Crystal take his hand when she tells the that the case matters is huge.

Why are they planning down at the shop when they have Crystal's room all to themselves? Besides the ambiance, of course. I think Jenny's reaction is completely justified.

Esther leaves her turntable on when she goes to the post office. Is it for Monty? The atmosphere? Did she just forget?

Not a new discovery, just a reminder of something I really like. There's this very specific editing thing (like the quick cuts between the instruments and then the opened lock, I don't know what to call it) that they do pretty much every time Charles picks a lock / opens a door, and it makes me very happy each time. The sound they use for it is perfection.

Edwin's attention to detail is insane. The fact that he can recall one cupboard is further forward than it was in the plans is really impressive.

Charles sounds so done when he throws the magic backpack. "Put her in the bag-of-tricks backpack." Man, I can hear the eye roll in that sentence. Good to know Edwin isn't the only bitchy one in this relationship.

And that's it for episode 1. I think I might do this for the others as well as I watch them. It was really fun to do, and it forces me to pay attention to the details, so I think it's worthwhile.

[whiteraven87]

Driven by Desire: Fire and Speed - 27. Breakthrough [18+]

The Unstoppable Series - Masterlist

Four parts. Two hearts. One love story.

pairing: Toto Wolff x Miriell Joschke (Original Character, female F1 driver)

Series warnings: long fan fiction/series, slow burn, age gap (23 years), woman racing in F1, boss/driver relationship, difficult and painful past, death, angst, recovery after trauma and loss, love after loss, sexual tension, sex scenes, illness, pregnancy, memory lost.

full series word count: 218k words of speed, scars, slow-burning love, and everything in between.

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

chapters until now of Part 4: Driven by Desire: Fire and Speed

Prologue

Return to Life

YES!

We are back

Third World Championship Title

The Night That Changed Everything

The Inevitable Conversation

Now and Forever [18+]

You Are the Reason

Our Place

The New Driver

Night Experiments [18+]

In His Power [18+]

Memories

The Royal Couple of F1 [18+]

New Era

The First Race of the Season and Rumors

Mercedes – Power, Style, and Authority

Triumph of a Young Champion

Shadows of the Night

The Sea, the Silence, Us [18+]

Unexpected news

Oasis of Peace

Loss

Emptiness

Painful Truth

previous Parts:

Part 1: Driven by Speed - A Diamond Among Stones

Part 2: Driven by Success - Golden Girl

Part 3: Driven by Love - Rebirth from the Ashes

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

27. Breakthrough [18+]

Bieszczady, October

POV Miriell

There was a certain peace in the Bieszczady mountains in October — the kind of peace I desperately needed. The crisp air, the scent of damp earth and firewood burning in the fireplace soothed my nerves better than anything else. For the past weeks, I had lost myself in racing, pouring all my energy into competition, but deep down, something inside me remained unhealed.

That evening, I stood on the veranda, watching Toto chop wood. His movements were steady, precise, as if he was in control of everything around him. Muscles tensed beneath the thin fabric of his shirt, and I caught myself unable to take my eyes off him.

For weeks, I had been avoiding physical closeness — not because I stopped wanting it, but because I was afraid of how I'd react to it.

But now, something had shifted. The anxiety had given way to certainty. Life was moving forward, and I needed his closeness more than ever.

I walked up to him, gently grabbing his hand before he could lift another log. He looked at me with surprise — and then he saw something in my eyes.

Something no words could express.

We didn't have to speak.

He understood.

I led him to the bedroom, and he followed without question. He knew I was the one setting the pace now.

His presence was everything I needed to feel whole again.

When I started unbuttoning his shirt, my hands trembled — not from doubt, but from tension, desire, need.

Toto whispered my name softly, kissing my temples, my forehead, my hair. I could feel him breathing deeply, holding back to let me take control.

I looked into his eyes.

"I want you so much, Toto... all of you, without restraint. Please, give me what I need. I don't want tenderness. I want your strength — be firm, be rough in your touch and your movements... please..." I said.

"Are you sure, Liebling?"

"Yes. This is what I need."

When his skin touched mine, I felt a warmth that slowly ignited something deep inside me.

For the first time in weeks, I felt free of emotional pain. I wanted to lose myself in that moment — to let his touch drown out the memories still clinging inside me.

His hands were strong, yet gentle. Even as the intensity built, even as he allowed himself more, I felt the care in every move.

Our bodies moved together in a rhythm only we knew. Every touch, every breath reminded me that I was here, in the present — alive, loved, desired.

As I lay beneath him, I felt his strength — the way he held my wrists, my hips. The way he moved inside me — rough, deep, intense. I felt him sinking into me, more and more, and it freed me.

And yet, his kisses on my skin carried comfort, love, and tenderness.

When we lay together afterward, I felt the weight of his body on mine, his warmth, his breath against my skin.

He still held me close, as if afraid I might shatter.

But I didn't.

Tears began to quietly slip down my cheeks.

They weren't tears of sadness — but of relief.

For the first time in months, I truly felt like I was breathing again.

Toto shifted slightly, looking down at me with concern. He gently brushed my cheek with his thumb, but before he could speak, I lifted myself up on my elbow and kissed his forehead.

"Thank you" I whispered.

He didn't need to ask what for.

He knew.

She Came Back to Me

Bieszczady, October

POV Toto

I watched her as she slept peacefully in my arms — naked, wrapped only in the warmth of our bodies and the moonlight pouring through the window. Her breathing was steady, her face relaxed, as if she had finally found relief after weeks of torment.

Gently, I ran my hand along her back, feeling the warmth of her skin and the lingering tension from the night we had just shared.

These past weeks had been torture for me. I saw how Miriell had been building walls around herself, how she drifted away from me, avoiding closeness.

She didn't touch me like she used to, didn't curl up to me at night, didn't seek out my warmth when she woke up breathing heavily from some quiet nightmare.

I knew it had nothing to do with a lack of love — the pain of loss was simply stronger than everything else.

I felt it too.

I had lost our child.

But it wasn't the same kind of pain as hers.

She felt it on every level — physically, mentally, existentially.

And the knowledge that she might never be a mother... it was destroying her even more.

It hurt me that I couldn't help her, that I couldn't take that burden from her shoulders.

And it hurt even more that she kept pushing me away.

But that night... she came back to me.

I saw in her eyes a hunger that wasn't just a longing for closeness.

It was a need to lose herself, to break free, to shatter something that had kept her locked inside herself for weeks, choking on silence.

She didn't ask for tenderness.

She begged for something else — strength, intensity, dominance — something that would make her feel alive again.

I didn't want to hurt her. But I saw that it was exactly what she needed.

Now, as I kissed her wrists gently — already marked with the first signs of red welts — I felt bitterness in my chest.

I knew that tomorrow she'd be sore, that she might struggle to sit down, that her skin would carry the traces of my hands, of the force she had so desperately asked me for.

But I couldn't undo that night.

I ran my fingers through her hair and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead.

Never again.

I promised myself I wouldn't allow it again.

I didn't want to hurt her, even if she claimed she needed it.

That's not why I loved her.

I wanted to give her pleasure, safety, love — not pain.

I hoped that after this night something would change — that she'd stop pulling away from me, that we'd become one again.

Because I couldn't bear another day of watching her suffer while keeping me at arm's length.

Miriell stirred slightly, nestling her face against my chest.

I sighed quietly and wrapped my arm around her.

She was everything to me.

And I would do anything — anything — so she'd never have to seek comfort in pain again.

morning, next day

I woke up first. The sun was rising lazily over the Bieszczady, casting golden reflections on Miriell's skin. She was still asleep, breathing steadily, nestled gently against me. For a moment, I just watched her, memorizing every detail—her parted lips, the slight movement of her eyelids, the fine strands of blond hair scattered across the pillow.

She looked more at peace. For the first time in weeks, I didn't see tension on her face. I didn't feel the cold distance she had built around herself.

But I knew she'd be sore.

I noticed her stir slightly, her brows furrowing. As she tried to shift positions, a soft hiss escaped her lips.

"Shit," she muttered, and I couldn't help the faint smile that tugged at my lips.

"How are you feeling?" I asked quietly, sliding my hand along her back.

"Like I got run over by a tank." She opened her eyes, looked at me, and smiled faintly. "But... I feel better. Lighter."

I ran my hand down her arm, gently brushing the spots where I had held her too tightly just yesterday, leaving marks.

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

"Don't be." Her hand rose and brushed my cheek. "What happened... I needed it. But..." She hesitated for a second. "The tenderness I see in your eyes right now—that's what I needed even more."

I kissed her forehead, then her nose, then the corner of her lips.

"Come on, let's make breakfast," I suggested. "And I promise, I won't let you do anything today that requires sitting down."

She chuckled softly and gave my arm a gentle slap.

In the kitchen, she moved slowly, but I could see she was more alive, more present than she had been in weeks. She made coffee while I prepared eggs and toast. We talked about everything and nothing—the weather, needing to chop more wood before winter, funny stories from the paddock. Finally, we were us again.

After breakfast, we sat on the couch, and I pulled her closer, wrapping an arm around her.

"What are you doing?" she asked with mild amusement when I suddenly sat on the floor in front of her.

I didn't answer right away. I took her hand and kissed the inside of her wrist, where faint traces of my fingers still lingered. Then I moved my lips higher—to her forearm, her shoulder, her collarbone—leaving soft kisses across her skin.

I wanted to erase every trace of pain I'd caused her.

When I reached her stomach, I kissed it with all the gentleness I could muster.

I placed tender kisses on her hips, slowly making my way down, until I reached her most intimate place. This time, I was careful—slow. I didn't want to give her anything except pleasure.

Miriell trembled, but she didn't pull away. She looked at me through half-closed eyes, and when she felt my lips on her most sensitive spot, she let out a quiet sigh and closed her eyes.

My touch was light, almost ethereal. I wanted to erase every memory of pain she might have felt. I didn't rush. Every movement was filled with care and love—I wanted her to feel safe, wanted her to feel bliss.

"You're perfect, Miriell," I whispered between kisses.

Miriell tilted her head back, her fingers tangling in my hair.

When I finally lifted myself and looked into her eyes again, I saw something that had been missing for weeks.

Life.

She smiled, stretched lazily, and nestled into me.

"Maybe you should take a warm bath," I suggested, kissing her temple.

She looked up at me with a mischievous smile.

"Only if you join me."

That spark in her eyes... She was coming back.

My Miriell was coming back.

I Feel Lighter

Bieszczady Mountains, October

POV Miriell

I opened my eyes slowly, feeling the first rays of sunlight brush against my skin. The air in the bedroom was cool, but the warmth radiating from Toto and the softness of his arms made me not want to move. I was sore—every little movement reminded me of the intensity of the night before. And yet, contrary to what I might have expected, I didn't feel heavy.

I felt calm.

For the first time in weeks, my breath wasn't heavy. For the first time in weeks, I didn't feel that icy wall I had built around myself.

I looked at Toto. He was already awake, his hand lazily sliding over my arm, his eyes watching me attentively.

"Good morning," I murmured, nestling into his neck.

"Good morning, Liebling," he replied, kissing the top of my head and pulling me closer.

I smiled.

After breakfast, we sat down on the couch, and I savored his closeness. He was tender, gentle, kissing me everywhere he had once been rough—like he was trying to erase every painful memory of that night.

I closed my eyes, feeling his lips on my stomach.

This time, there was no tension in me. This time, I didn't feel the urge to run.

When I looked into his eyes again, I knew he saw the difference.

"Maybe you should take a bath," he suggested softly, brushing his fingers across my cheek.

I raised an eyebrow, smiling faintly.

"Only if you join me."

His gaze softened, though a hint of a smile danced at the corners of his lips.

***

The bathroom in our Bieszczady home was my favorite place. Large glass windows overlooked the lake and forest, letting in the natural light and serenity of the surrounding nature. The water in the tub steamed gently, wrapping us in warmth as I sat between Toto's parted thighs, my back resting against his chest.

His hands moved slowly along my skin, lazily, as if he were savoring every second of our closeness.

"I'm sorry, Kochanie," I said quietly, closing my eyes.

Toto froze for a moment, then rested his chin on my shoulder.

"For what?"

"For the past few weeks." I sighed, intertwining our fingers beneath the water. "I shut down, pushed you away... But you lost our baby too. I shouldn't have shut you out."

Toto wrapped his arms around me more tightly, pulling me even closer.

"We each grieved in our own way, Miriell," he said softly. Calmly. "I couldn't expect you to handle it the same way I did."

"But I was selfish." I turned slightly to look into his eyes. "I locked myself inside my pain so deeply that I forgot you were hurting just as much."

Toto kissed my temple, then my shoulder, his lips gliding along my wet skin.

"You're here. You're coming back to me. That's all that matters."

I looked at him for a long moment, feeling a wave of tenderness flood my heart.

Then I climbed onto his lap, wrapping my legs around him, pressing my body into his.

Our lips found each other in a kiss, and his hands began to glide over my back, my hips, my thighs—gentle, caring, as if he wanted to remind me I could lose myself in him without fear, without hesitation.

This time, there was no pain.

There was only love. And a peace I hadn't felt in weeks.

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

NEXT -> 28. The Fourth

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

"I put my armor on, show you how strong I am."

Read the story here:

AO3 Unstoppable Series

Wattpad: Part1 I Part 2 I Part 3 | Part 4

🇵🇱 Dla Polskich czytelników [for Polish readers] [PL]:

Seria Niepowstrzymana AO3

Wattpad PL: Part1 I Part 2 I Part 3 | Part 4

[starsfic]

Chaos

Summary: Azure Lion and Lady Bone Demon are in the void. They aren’t alone.

Notes: The mention of a sparrow is a reference to this comic by @dr-chalk. There's not actually any spoilers, this is just working off a theory brought up by the new season, but better safe than sorry.

-_-

Death was boring.

At least, in Azure's case, it was. Nothing but white stretched as far as he could see, with no shadows, no noise, and no company...

Besides hers.

He had awoken to her hovering over him, her dark curls flowing down her back like spilled ink. Her face, although lovely even with her skin stretched taunt over her skull, had been void of expression. "So, he killed you too," she had said, with no explanation of who he was.

Azure already knew.

Supposedly, her name was Baigujing, although most had called her Lady Bone Demon at the end of her life. She had supposedly attempted to save the world as well by burning it to ashes. Azure had asked how that was considered saving the world, and the following words had shut his mouth.

(He would never think of sparrows the same way again.)

Azure hated her company but clung to it. There was nothing else in the void that stretched for what felt like miles, nothing but his own mind and memories. And with the nothing of the void, he had time to think over his life, his actions...his relationships...

He missed the warmth of Flower Fruit Mountain. He missed the joy of his brothers. He would've gladly never looked at Heaven again if it meant he was back there.

Baigujing never spoke much about her life as they sat together, backs pressing together. He figured that she too was stuck thinking about it, though.

He wasn't sure how long this dragged on. It could've been seconds. It could've been centuries.

Just, one day, there was a splat.

Azure brushed it off as being too deep in a memory of a silly food fight Bull and Wukong had once. Half a heartbeat passed before another splat made his ears twitch. He brushed it off again.

The third splat was followed by Baigujing sighing "What is that?" and him cracking an eye open.

There, right in front of him, was a small puddle of...something. It had a deep, dark color, almost like the ink of the memory scroll, but as he watched it, it shimmered to shimmer through the rainbow, from gold to white to red to lavender... Azure reached out and experimentally poked it, finding it to have the same texture as clay.

Before he could wonder, there was another splat as more of the strange stuff dripped down from the ceiling.

He craned his head back and felt himself go pale.

There was a massive crack in what he supposed must be the ceiling of the void, revealing stars and galaxies and ominous dark clouds. And, staring out, is a giant mass of clay, staring him down with empty sockets.

Without a word, Azure knew it was hungry. That it would consume whatever it could find.

And, right now, they were the closest thing.

"...Nope."

Without a second to think he jumped to his feet, grabbed Baigujing, and took off running. He heard a shriek from the creature behind and sped up.

He just had to stay away from it. They just had to stay away.

Hopefully, the thing would get bored...

Right?

[women-in-ssports]

FOREVER AND A DAY

Chapter 5 THIRD Wheel

PAIGE

Joseph sat across from Paige, his brow furrowed, the frustration clearly written on his face. He had been thinking about this for days, and now, with everything hanging between them, he couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“I just don’t understand why we can’t go on dates, just the two of us,” he said, his voice tinged with a mixture of confusion and hurt. He looked at Paige, waiting for her to meet his gaze, hoping for some sort of explanation that would make sense to him.

At first, Paige had said it was because he hadn’t met her parents. He had done that, and yet, it didn’t seem to change anything. Then she had told him there was something else, but she hadn’t clarified. He didn’t understand why they were always surrounded by friends, whether it was after games, practices, or random hangouts. Joseph was fine with being around their friends, but it wasn’t the same as having time alone with Paige—time to really get to know each other, outside of the chaos and expectations of everyone else.

“I do not mind her coming with us all the time if it means I get to be with you,” Joseph continued, his voice softer now, trying to be patient. “But I’d really like to have just one-on-one time with you. Outside of school, outside of games… without everyone else around.”

His heart pounded in his chest as he spoke, desperately wanting Paige to understand how important this was to him. The idea of just the two of them, enjoying each other's company, felt like a simple but crucial thing he was missing. He wasn’t asking for much—just a few hours, a quiet evening together, where they could laugh and talk, and experience things on their own, like any other couple.

He leaned forward slightly, his eyes searching hers. “I just don’t get it. Why is that so hard? We barely get any time to ourselves, and I feel like we’re always... waiting for the right moment, but it never comes. I just want to be with you, Paige. Just us.”

Paige reached out to grab Joseph's hand, her fingers brushing against his with the same tenderness that had come naturally over the past few weeks. She cared about him, really, she did. He was kind, supportive, and they shared so many of the same interests. They enjoyed the same music, the same movies, even the same silly inside jokes that made their group of friends laugh.

But as her hand settled into his, something in her chest tightened, a familiar ache that she couldn’t quite explain. The feelings weren’t there. Not in the way she had expected. She liked Joseph—he was sweet and he made her laugh, and she was comfortable with him—but she never felt the spark she thought she’d have by now. The kind of spark that you see in movies, the one where the world seems to fade out when you're with someone, and everything just... makes sense.

Instead, she felt a strange emptiness, a nagging feeling that no matter how many good moments they had, something important was missing. She couldn’t help but compare what she had with Joseph to the relationships she’d read about or seen on screen. It wasn’t the passionate, thrilling kind of connection she’d imagined for herself.

And that realization made her feel guilty.

Her mind drifted back to the reason she’d been keeping her distance. It wasn’t because she didn’t like him—she did he just wasn’t her. But there was something inside her that couldn’t help but pull away when it was just the two of them.

She didn’t have the words to tell him that. Not yet.

Instead, she squeezed his hand, offering a small, apologetic smile, hoping he wouldn’t see the doubt that lingered just beneath the surface.

Joseph smiled slightly and leaned in, placing a soft, gentle peck on Paige's lips.

AZZI

Azzi had woken up hours earlier than necessary that morning. It had been a few weeks since the talk with Coach about Paige and her joining the varsity scrimmages and tournaments at the start of the season. And tonight was the night. To save time, she’d had her mom braid her hair the night before so she wouldn’t have to deal with it today. She’d also managed to fit in a good stretch during her FaceTime with a groggy Paige this morning, who could barely mumble a coherent word. Now, Azzi was walking into the cafeteria, carrying surprise breakfast smoothies for all her friends—though the one she had for Paige, the picky blonde who’d skipped breakfast, was the main reason she’d gone out of her way.

As she entered, she spotted her friends at their usual table and set the smoothies down. “Where’s the blonde?” she asked. Nike rolled her eyes and pointed to the back corner. Azzi followed her gaze and saw Paige talking with her boyfriend. He looked upset about something, and Paige was doing her best to comfort him. Azzi still needed to head to math class to ask a few homework questions before the bell rang, but she figured she’d give Paige the smoothie before she left.

“I wouldn’t do that,” Aubrey warned her quietly. Azzi shot her a confused look but shrugged it off, making her way toward Paige. Just as Azzi was about to approach, Joseph leaned in to kiss her Paige.

Azzi cleared her throat softly to grab their attention. “Morning guys,” she said, flashing a dimply smile as she held out the smoothie to Paige.

“Good morning, Azzi!” Joseph replied, looking up with a smile of his own.

It took a moment for Paige to notice the smoothie, but when she did, she reached out to grab it. “Thanks, Azzi.” her voice laced with surprise and something else—a soft, unspoken warmth. She couldn’t help but wonder, not for the first time, how this girl seemed to know exactly what she needed. Waking up at the crack of dawn to a FaceTime making Paige stretch, and then showing up with a smoothie because she knew Paige would skip breakfast? It was oddly sweet, and maybe a little… endearing. Paige couldn’t help but feel a quiet tug at her chest. There was something about Azzi’s thoughtfulness that made her feel seen in a way she wasn’t used to.

“No problem,” Azzi said with a shrug, taking a step back to head to math.

Before she could turn away, Paige called out, “You’re headed to math, right?”

“Yeah, I am.”

“Great, I need to go too. I have some questions I got stuck on last night.” Paige stood up, and Azzi blinked, realizing Paige wasn’t even in the same math class. But she played along.

Paige gave Joseph a quick wave. “Okay, see you later.”

Joseph’s voice was quiet as he responded, “Yeah, see you later.”

PAIGE

As Paige and Azzi walked toward Azzi’s math class, Azzi couldn’t help but let out a small snort.

“Oh, shut it,” Paige said, playfully shoving the smaller girl in the shoulder.

“I just didn’t know we were in the same math class,” Azzi replied with a grin. “You must sit in the back or something.”

Paige rolled her eyes, her mind drifting to her conversation with Joseph that morning. She debated whether or not to tell Azzi about it. If she did, she’d have to admit to lying to both Azzi and Joseph about not being able to go on dates. It had been true at first—mainly because Joseph hadn’t met her parents yet—but not anymore. The real reason, though, was something Paige couldn’t quite put into words. She just felt more at ease when Azzi was around. Her presence made everything feel more relaxed, like the whole world wasn’t on her shoulders. And, for reasons Paige didn’t entirely understand, the dates always felt better when Azzi was there.

JOSPEH

Little did Paige know, the boys' away scrimmage that day had been switched with the boys' JV time, meaning Joseph would be back at school just in time to watch Paige’s first game. As the girls gathered on the gym floor for warmups, Joseph slipped quietly in, still in his own warmups, not having had a chance to change. His presence was immediately noticeable to Paige’s little brother, Drew, who had an eagle eye for familiar faces in the crowd.

"Joseph!!!" Drew yelled, his voice cutting through the buzz of the gym as he sprinted along the bleachers, launching himself into Joseph's arms.

"Hey, little bud," Joseph said with a grin, catching him effortlessly.

"Come sit with us! Please, please! My dad’s over there," Drew begged, his eyes wide and hopeful.

Joseph hesitated for a second. The hesitation surprised him, but he found himself nodding and following Drew through the bleachers to where Paige’s dad sat a few rows up.

The conversation with Paige this morning replayed in Joseph’s mind. Should he ask Paige’s dad about the Winter Dance? Maybe he could convince him to let them go out to dinner, just the two of them, before. He knew Paige wasn’t allowed to go out alone with him, but maybe this one time would be different. They’d be with the group for the rest of the night, after all.

Before he could talk himself out of it, Joseph turned to Paige’s dad. “Sir, I want to ask Paige to the Winter Dance, and I’d like to take her to dinner before—just the two of us.”

He hesitated, preparing for the explanation he knew he’d have to give. But to his surprise, Paige’s dad just nodded and said, “Of course, Joseph. I think Paige would love that!”

Joseph blinked, stunned. “Thank you, sir,” he said quietly, then turned back to the court.

He couldn’t help but wonder if he was a better negotiator than he thought—or if Paige had lied…

THE GAME

The game ended with a 68 - 45 win for Hopkins. Azzi had been on fire, sinking three 3-pointers, while Paige contributed with a few well-timed layups and nailed her free throws, finishing with 6 points. Considering both girls had played less than 15 minutes each, they were buzzing with energy after the win.

Azzi’s family was the first to reach the girls, gushing over them with big smiles. “You two did amazing!” they said, showering both girls with praise. It wasn’t long before Drew made his way over, bypassing her dad to find Azzi. He moved toward her, arms lifted, ready for her to scoop him up.

“Hey, boo,” Azzi grinned, lifting him effortlessly. “You better score more than us at your game tomorrow.”

“I’ll try,” Drew smiled up at her.

Meanwhile, Paige stood back, watching the scene unfold. She couldn’t help but notice the way Azzi and Drew interacted—so easy, so natural. The playful way Azzi called him “boo” had a different vibe to it, one that Paige realized she wasn’t used to seeing between Drew and anyone but her. She glanced at Drew, then back at Azzi, her mind working through an unfamiliar feeling. It wasn’t a look she’d reserve for a best friend... more like something you'd give your girlfriend.

Paige’s thoughts were interrupted when an arm suddenly slung around her shoulder. She turned, expecting to see her dad, but was surprised to find Joseph standing there instead. He gave both her and Azzi quick hugs before stepping back with a grin.

“Why are you here?” Paige asked, her voice coming out a little sharper than she meant. She immediately regretted it, realizing how it sounded. She was genuinely curious, though—he should be at his own game.

Joseph just shrugged, his grin still in place. “Had a little free time. Figured I’d watch your game. Besides, I wanted to see how you did,” he said, his voice carrying a subtle edge.

Paige blinked, a little thrown off. She was used to Joseph’s laid-back attitude, but something in his tone felt... different. Like there was more behind his words than he was letting on.

But Joseph recovered quickly, his grin widening. “No, our game got switched with the JV’s, so I got back in time to watch you two ball out,” he explained, as casual as ever.

Paige felt a flicker of relief, but that moment of tension still lingered in the back of her mind. Was it just her, or had there been something more in his tone?

Everyone around them seemed oblivious to the small shift in the mood, but Azzi noticed. She could feel the quiet tension between Paige and Joseph, something unspoken hanging in the air. Without skipping a beat, she placed her hand on Paige’s shoulder, giving it a soft squeeze.

"Ready to go celebrate, Paige?" Azzi asked, her voice light but carrying an edge of understanding. She glanced at Joseph for a second before adding, “You too, Joseph. A few of the other boys are joining us.”

The moment felt like it snapped back into place, but something in Paige’s chest tightened at Azzi’s touch. She smiled, trying to shake it off. “Yeah, let’s go,” she said, her voice a little quieter than usual.

Joseph nodded, already drifting toward the other players, but Paige couldn’t help but catch Azzi’s eye. There was something unspoken between them, a feeling that lingered just under the surface. Paige couldn’t put her finger on it, but it was enough to make her heart beat a little faster.

LET’S CELEBRATE

Despite both Paige and Joseph making it to the basketball party at Dorka’s house after the game with the rest of the group, they didn’t seem to stick around Azzi and Paige’s usual circle of friends. Instead, they shifted toward the seniors, the ones Joseph was more familiar with, blending into their group as if the two girls didn’t exist in the same space anymore.

Azzi noticed it first, her eyes following Joseph and Paige as they blended into the senior group. Paige, trying to focus on the party, felt a pang in her chest as she watched Azzi, Aubrey, Nika, Ice, and Caroline laughing and playing beer pong, not seeming to care she wasn’t with them.

The feeling hit her harder than she expected—like she was being left behind. Azzi glanced over, meeting her eye for a brief moment, but Paige just forced a smile and tried to shake it off. The knot in her chest didn’t loosen.

TIME JUMP - FEBRUARY - AZZI

Azzi sat on the bleachers before practice, bouncing a basketball between her legs, lost in thought. She glanced up just in time to see Paige slip into the gym on the far side, but she didn’t smile, didn’t say anything. She just kept dribbling, her focus sharp, though her mind felt scattered.

The air between them had shifted, but neither of them seemed to acknowledge it—or admit it. The change was small, subtle, but anyone who knew them could feel it. After the dance, Paige had pulled away more and more. Azzi had to see the pictures of Paige getting ready on Instagram the next day, wondering why she hadn’t been the one helping her pick out the dress or curling her hair. It wasn’t like they were mad at each other—there was no fight, no argument. They still hung out outside of basketball, still texted. But it was different. There was a quiet wall between them now, neither was brave enough to address.

Azzi didn’t understand why. She just knew something had changed.

But every time Paige glanced over at her—her eyes lingering for just a second too long—Azzi couldn’t help but feel the weight of something she didn’t know how to name.

[outerbankies]

so I'll watch your life in pictures like I used to watch you sleep, and I'll watch you forget me like I used to feel you breathe..." for the prompts

new light: last kiss

new light masterlist a/n: thank you for sending this in!! the 2k prompt celly slooowly trucks along. this takes place in part 9 of the og series!

When Rafe told Topper that Ward had called him home, he should’ve expected this exact scenario.

And yet, it’s still somehow a surprise when Topper and Kelce pull up to Tannyhill on Friday evening, mere hours since Rafe even pulled in himself. It was an exhausting drive home, and an even more exhausting talking-to from his father afterward. Add onto that that he hadn’t been sleeping much at all in the past week, and Rafe felt like half-dead climbing into Topper’s Jeep.

“Lodge?” Topper had asked. 

Rafe had shrugged, looking away with intention before he could see the look his friends exchanged between themselves. But the view out the window was no better when Topper drove right by your house. 

You were everywhere here.

Rafe knew coming home would be taxing. But it was like he could feel you in the stubborn humidity still hanging around in October almost as clearly as he had felt you in California only a week ago. In June, you’d insisted on leaving a window open to sleep because you missed the sound of cicadas in the summer, and Rafe would wake up sweating buckets to find you sleeping peacefully to his side, bodies pressed so closely together he could feel your chest moving when you breathed.

And it was he could hear your laughter in the sound of the ocean waves crashing on his drive right by the water, all the way out to Figure 8. The salt in the air, the chaotic noises of the marina. 

After a few drinks, Rafe figures he’ll probably be able to see your outline walking through town.

Topper’s whistle is shrill in his ear, and Rafe really needs to do a better job pretending he’s alright if he’s going to make it through this weekend without spilling anything. 

“Dude. What’s with you?” Rafe is asked. Even Kelce, never not known to fill an awkward silence, is looking at him silently from across the table. 

“Nothing,” Rafe decides sipping down the rest of his IPA until its foam. Wordless eye contact with Charlie at the bar, and another one’s coming.

“Old man give it to you pretty good today?” Kelce asks.

“Kinda,” Rafe answers. He can’t really remember at this point. It was a lot of the same; a lot about you. His distraction, his hindrance. His everything.

“Alright then. So… shots?” Topper asks hesitantly. Rafe shrugs, his go-to for the night he supposes, and Kelce nods emphatically; Topper’s taking that as good enough, venturing to the bar. Rafe watches him try and fail to cut through a pack of tourists with no luck. Tourists, at Rafe’s dingy bar on The Cut, this late in the season.

“Rafe.” Kelce says, and it sounds like it might have been the third or fourth try.

“Sorry, dude,” Rafe replies. “You know, I think I’m going home after this round. I’m exhausted—been driving all fuckin’ day.”

“No, no worries,” Kelce says. “I was just asking if you saw McCall’s story the other night.”

Rafe sees Kelce’s phone in his hand and averts his eyes as quickly as he can, squandering the urge to start choking on his spit by loudly clearing his throat. He trains his focus on his empty pint instead, dragging the glass and its condensation back and forth across the table, wondering when his new one—or better yet, that round of shots—will materialize. “No. I haven’t. You follow McCall?”

“Yeah, she’s hot. And shit was so funny, dude. Y/n/n was hammered last night,” Kelce laughs.

Rafe should’ve know that’s where this was heading—why else would Kelce bring that up. But he’s 15 again. Then 19, 20 and 21, too. All those ages in between. He’s every age he ever was before he finally got you to fall in love with him, dreading the moment Kelce inevitably brought up your name. 

Things were a little different this time. Rafe’s not an embarrassed and lovesick teenager willing his blush to creep back down his neck. He supposes he’s more of a man now, jaded and stuck walking around his hometown like an open wound, while you’re out with your friends. But he guesses he is, too. 

He should be happy, shouldn’t he? That you seem to be having fun? He’d ended it. You’d agreed. Even though he could tell you didn’t want to, you had. In way, you’d let him go, too. You’d made a choice just like he had, and maybe it wasn’t getting you down as much as it was him. He’d broken your heart, and you’d deleted your photos together and went out drinking with your friends. 

God, where are those shots?

“I didn’t even know Y/n still drank like that,” Kelce continues. “Not without you around anyway. I’m talking senior ditch day levels of shitfaced, if you remember that.” 

You blacked out on Kildare’s senior ditch day, Rafe remembers it well. Because he’d been the designated driver for Matteo’s party, which meant he was the one who had to then decide which friend was sober enough to watch the rest of your friends while he got you out of there, safely out of that house and into your own, all without losing it on whatever guy from the lacrosse team had got you that way and whatever friend of Rafe’s hadn’t been watching it closely enough. Rafe had been the one to hand you off to your younger brother, praying to god Dylan wouldn’t tell and make Rafe complicit in your parents’ future disdain. And he’d been the one to receive an embarrassed text from you the next day. And he’d been the one who didn’t care, just glad you were okay. That Rafe could never fathom sharing a first kiss with you, but the last one would make a lot more sense to him.

“Yeah, well. Not really my problem anymore,” he snaps, before he can decide to do otherwise, residual anger from that day toppling over the mess of emotions he already was.

Kelce rolls his eyes. “Please. You were making her your problem before she ever even was. And I’ll drink to that, actually—I wonder where those shots—”

“I broke up with her.”

Kelce cracks a grin, letting out a surprised laugh. A few seconds go by, and the grin falls. “I know you’re not joking about that, Rafe.”

A sad country songs takes over on the speakers, and Rafe hides his face in his hands, unable to bear the look on Kelce’s face when it finally dawns on him. It was hard enough around the only others who knew, and Rafe would honestly prefer his roommates in Georgia were still as oblivious as Kelce had been a few seconds ago, and as Topper still is at the bar right now. He’d tried to keep it that way, for a while at least, but it didn’t take long after Graham picked him up from the airport for his best friend to figure it out. 

Graham must have passed it on to Sawyer and Cody soon after, because he didn’t get a second of normalcy before the kid gloves came out. Those guys didn’t even know you, hadn’t even seen Rafe around you save for grainy FaceTimes over the summer, the ones Rafe had cut off in favor of giving you his undivided attention. He can’t believe he was even nervous at the idea of you meeting them at this point—he’d give anything to stress over something so idiotic now.

But Kelce knew you, better than he knew Rafe or maybe just the same. And Rafe didn’t know what to make of Kelce having no idea of what had happened, indication you’d told him as much as Rafe had. When his friends showed up at Tannyhill today, he’d half expected the death glare he’s getting right now when Rafe picks his head up again.

“Say it again.”

“Kelce,” Rafe groans, pained.

“Say it again,” he presses. “Say it one more time, Rafe, and I’ll know you’re serious.”

“I broke up with her,” he says. “We broke up.”

“You broke up with her?” Kelce repeats. “Or you broke up?”

“Whoa.” 

Topper’s reappeared, a flight of shots in his hands that Rafe is shocked actually make it onto the table and don’t smash all over the sticky ground. 

“Whoa,” Topper repeats dumbly. “What? Who broke up with who?”

“I don’t know, Top,” Kelce says, scooting his stool back, the feet scraping loudly on the same sticky floor. “‘Cause I’m having trouble understanding, too.”

“Can you not be so fucking dramatic?” Rafe sneers, picking the shot glass closest to him and downing it without a thought. He downs the second closest, too, just for good measure. 

“I’m gonna call her right now,” Kelce warns, his phone already in his hand. “You have one more chance to tell me this is the dumbest fucking joke you’ve ever told.”

“Guys,” Topper says hesitantly. He glances between Rafe and the only remaining shot, worried.

Rafe looks to Kelce, and having no doubt he’s serious, gives the only reply that comes to mind. “Will y’make sure she’s alright?”

“God fucking dammit, Cameron,” Kelce sighs, beelining for the front door, somewhere Rafe is glad he won’t have to hear whatever comes out of his mouth next. 

Topper sits down, looking bewildered, picking up that third shot. He offers it to Rafe, who waves him off, before taking it. “I’m sorry. What?”

Rafe hasn’t cried, Rafe doesn’t cry, but if his best friend makes him say it one more time then he might have to put stock into the tightening in his throat or the pressure behind his eyes he’d been feeling since he left California. 

He’d been sleeping in your bed a week ago, waking up hours before you because his body was still ahead, content to let you sleep as long as possible while he took in everything he felt being close to you again, how your face and hair and nails had subtly changed since he last got to see you in August. How you had pictures of him by your bed, stuck on your mirror in your bathroom, hanging in the hallway and even under magnets on the fridge downstairs. How your blinds were in need of fixing, your sheets smelled just like they did back in Kildare, how the stack of books on your bedside table—one of their pages split down the middle by a polaroid he knew was of him and Wilbur—was so close to falling off Rafe barely dared to set his phone and wallet down but did anyway. 

Because they fit, just like he somehow fit in your bed and in your heart and in your life, so grateful in these moments he got to love you without thinking twice about it, wondering how he ever got along without them. And you’d wake up with fake annoyances that he hadn’t woken you up with him, kissing him sleepily before going downstairs to start a pot of coffee. 

“I don’t know what to tell you, Top,” he says, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Well—tell me what happened, to start,” Topper says. “Or—are you ready for that?”

When Charlie finally, finally, brings over another beer, Rafe figures he might was well try. “I felt like I wasn’t doing anything right. She’s crying all the time, I’m fucking up and pissing her off left and right. Her friends… fuck, I don’t even know if they liked me. I’m sure they don’t now.” 

“But that’s not why…”

“I know you’re trying to understand, but—”

“And I can’t, dude. What? You broke up with Y/n/n?”

“Yes, dude, fuck! Alright? I broke up with her. I fucked it up. I don’t know why everyone’s so fucking surprised—I was bound to screw it up at some point, wasn’t I? I’m a mess, I lied to her, I was never gonna be good enough for all of it or her.”

“You lied?” Topper asks. 

“I lied to my dad,” Rafe corrects, frustrated. “Why  do you think I’m here? This is my life. This. My job, my dad, this shitty bar on this shitty island. And she’s…”

So good, too good. Way too good for Rafe.

Topper must agree to an extent, and Rafe doesn’t know why that makes him feel better, that his friend lets the silence drag for so long. Maybe it gives Rafe time to convince himself he hadn’t fucked up, that he’d made the right move in letting you go. He doesn’t know how he ever convinced himself this wasn’t the only way this could end.

Topper finally nods his head in recognition. “That’s heavy. No chance you’ll work it out?”

He barely thought at all this week, going through the motions like a zombie, ignoring his roommates when they changed their tack and decided Rafe needed to get over it by going out or calling up an old favorite. The nausea that kind of thinking gave Rafe left him with no other choice but to start locking his door and stop answering their texts until they’d worried he died.

Kelce approaches the table again, and Rafe looks for any sign he can that will indicate how it went, but he only addresses Topper.

“I can’t get a signal outside—fuck The Cut—I’m gonna try the bathroom. And you,” Kelce says, pointing at Rafe. “You better find your own way home until I can figure out if I need to punch you in the face or not.”

“Stop, Kelce, what the fuck, man?” Topper says, watching him go. But he stands to follow him before turning back to Rafe. “I’m gonna go cool him off, alright? Don’t go anywhere, you’re shitfaced. We can work this out.”

Rafe watches them walk away, wondering briefly if he’s gonna lose either of them over this. He might deserve it, he decides as he ignores Topper’s only instructions, tossing a few bills at the end of the bar along with all three shot glasses stacked neatly inside the empty pint he’s holding. Charlie nods at him as he does.

Rafe pushes the door open, deciding he could use the walk.

[mama-qwerty]

Thinking about Dread again.

Was going through my saved images and came across these, from the third season.

My deranged beloved has become a sad little meow meow.

So pensive. So frustrated. So defeated.

(My favorite image of him in this scene. I love that pose, it's so natural and conveys so much about his mental and emotional state.)

I still think the way they handled his 'redemption' completely missed the mark, and could have been done much better had they planted a few seeds to begin with. But the pacing of the whole series felt so odd, and I wonder if they had something different planned before Netflix (possibly) cut their time shorter.

(For the record, I think that's part of the problem with the Knuckles series. It felt like there should have been more in that, but Paramount told them they only had 6 eps to do what they wanted in 12.)

But Dread? My beloved little gremlin of a pirate? Oh, he had so much potential. He could have been this wild card, this character who continued to be him despite everything, who was so anti-Knuckles it was entertaining and fun and just a joy to watch him have so much fun being a bastard.

I get that they couldn't keep a Knuckles as an absolute asshole, but watching this delightful character go from this

To this

without seeing anything in between was jarring. The last we saw of Dread before season 3 started was him fighting with Ren as Sonic and Nine took the shards away. He was enraged to have lost his Beauty. Again. We have no idea what happened after that, but this descent into depression seemed sudden and out of character.

But considering how he behaved after his first loss of the shard (when he lost his first ship and crew), maybe this isn't that much of a stretch. He ran before, jumping nose first into denial, and tried to cover his feelings of defeat by being a party pirate. Now his Beauty is lost once again, and he's in a strange city, on another planet (in another universe!) and has made himself at odds with the people there. (With his other him.) He couldn't even contact his crew because he'd turned on them before leaving.

So here's Dread, completely out of his element, the one thing he'd lusted after his entire life gone. It would figure that he'd maybe have a bit of Ren's depressive state, and fall into a "What's the point? What I want always seems to be just out of reach. I'll never have my one true desire." mindset.

And maybe, since the shards were all gone, he's feeling some kind of mental shift. I've theorized that the shard's energy was what made Dread so batshit, and now that it's gone, maybe he's starting to think a little more clearly than he'd ever done before. Instead of that drive to "FIND HAVE KEEP" that gem, he's feeling like a failure for not being able to fulfill that quest. That duty. Because maybe to him, it didn't feel like the normal greed of pirate plunder, the urge to just take and steal and collect as much booty as possible. Maybe to him, because he's a Knuckles and they're hard wired to protect, it was something more personal.

That shard, according to his instincts, was his to protect. And now that it's gone, he's a failure and feels empty. He's coming down off that energy, the inexplicable hold the shard held over him, and is essentially going through a withdrawal of sorts, and dealing with the possibly conflicting emotions it dredged up.

There was so much potential for him. And the writers wasted it, by having him simply join in on the attack on Nine without examining his (very likely) ulterior motives. I don't like that they used that Jack character to draw Dread's selfish desires back out - those should have still been there! The whole agreement to join in should have been a plot to simply get him near his Beauty so he could pull a double cross.

This made it seem like Dread didn't even think about his Beauty during the whole battle. WHAT?? Being near it should have made him almost feral with the want to get to it. I would have loved to have seen him be another obstacle to the shard, so the heroes didn't only have to deal with Nine and his endless army of bots, but also this deranged pirate who was overcome with treasure lust.

Missed opportunity.

Ah well.

Just lookit this handsome bastard.

My beloved. Dread is possibly my absolutely favorite variant of Knuckles. I just love him.

[ddagent]

I've been really loving your writing! How about C1 for the prompts? I must know what that season 2 AU is. And maybe, if you have the time, D6?

Fanfic Menu Challenge

Aleida Rosales' first day at NASA had been intense. It was the first time she'd stepped foot into JSC since the day her father had been deported. There had been a scheduled field trip during her senior year but she'd called in sick that day; not wanting to see the familiar halls, to see Margo Madison. Aleida had long wondered what returning would feel like. But it had felt...right. She belonged in these halls, had worked her ass off to get a place in these halls. And not only was she now an engineer at NASA but she was working on one of the biggest missions since Jamestown: Apollo-Soyuz. With none other than one of the men who put Alexei Leonov on the moon.

At the end of her first day, Aleida wanted to make sure she said goodbye to Sergei. He had been kind: not pushing her to open up; asking only questions about the work. Always with a smile. But he was nowhere to be found.

In the ops office, she caught Elaine. "Hey, have you seen Sergei?"

Elaine tried her best to hide a smile as she finalised the new ops procedures. "He'll be with Director Madison."

Aleida felt a chunk of ice settle in the pit of her stomach. Why was he with Margo? Was she checking up on her? Did Margo think so little of her that she needed to be babysat? "Are you sure?"

Elaine checked her watch. "Well, it's about seven. He'll be there."

With a nod towards Elaine, Aleida fled the office and went to find Margo's. This would be the third office Margo had had since Aleida had known her. The first was nothing more than a cubicle: dim lighting, a mug full of tootsie rolls and toothpaste. The second had been larger, with a window no less and a couple of chairs. As Director of JSC, Aleida was expecting her office now to take up a whole floor. Maybe there was even a goddamn piano in there. Aleida felt rage build with every footstep, every clench of her hands. She was pissed at Margo for checking up on her. Pissed at Sergei for lying to her. He wasn't her friend. He was her damn babysitter.

As she rounded the corridor, Aleida caught sight of the open office door. Margo's assistant, Emma, had gone home. Light spilled from the open door, as did laughter. She recognised Sergei's laugh: he was incapable of getting through a shift without it. But in the months that she had known Margo, she had never heard that woman laugh.

"You do not think I will look fetching, yes, in a fake moustache and wig?"

Margo laughed again. What the hell? "Sergei, we are not hiding you when the Soviets come. You're with NASA, now. Front and centre."

"A perfect place to be for their snipers."

Through the open door, Aleida watched as Margo jabbed a finger in Sergei's direction. "Don't joke about that. Refill?"

"Please."

Margo stood up, took his empty glass, and went to a small bar by the wall of windows to refill their drinks. Aleida wondered what they were drinking. Vodka, maybe, as Sergei was Russian? Whiskey, brandy? Pepsi? But her speculation was cut off as her eyeline settled on Sergei. He wasn't staring at the artwork on the walls or at the bland carpeting. He was staring, unwatched and unbidden, at Margo Madison. His gaze was soft; his smile playful. Sergei stared, every atom within him yearning, as Margo poured them both another drink. Then, as soon as she turned around, a mask went up and Sergei was laughing and his eyes were harder. Like he'd never been watching her at all.

Margo sat back down and a new topic was introduced. "So, how was your new engineer?"

This was Aleida's moment. This was her time to storm in, to challenge them both. But she was rooted to the spot. Sergei replied and all Aleida could see was the familiar way he addressed Margo, the familiarity between them both. "She was wonderful, as you told me she would be. I am not surprised; you were her mentor."

"Hardly." Margo took a sip. "I knew her for four and half months eight years ago. I may have got her started but everything she is...it's all her." Another drink. "You'll keep an eye on her for me?"

"Margo—"

"—Sergei." He paused. She faltered, then spoke: "Please. You...you know what this means to me." Two drinks were quickly put aside. Sergei took Margo's hand in his. Their eyes met, and for a moment Aleida wondered whether she would watch her former mentor and her new one kiss in a quiet office. But Aleida blinked, and Margo was out of her chair, downing her drink, and putting it on the sideboard. "It's getting late."

"Of course." Sergei reluctantly finished his own drink. "Goodnight, Margo. See you tomorrow."

"Night."

Sergei left Margo's office, pulling the door closed behind him. He muttered words in Russian – Aleida didn't understand, but they seemed to be chastisements, hissing at himself and his behaviour. Sergei raised his head to leave and found Aleida standing in his path. He came to an abrupt stop. No questions about how long she'd been standing there, what she'd heard. Just: "This was a private conversation."

Aleida crossed her arms. "Looked pretty cosy."

"It is not. Director Madison and I...we discuss things. We have known each other a long time." Sergei joined her, sunk his hands into the pockets of his pants. He relaxed the closer he was from the door. "She does not question your capability, Aleida. She means only to make sure that you are well, that you are happy here."

"She could ask me herself."

Sergei smiled, softly, almost to himself. "Ah, but that would require Margo to challenge what has been instilled in her since she was first mentored: that this hallowed place is only for calculations, procedures. Not friendship or...love. She does her best, Aleida." His hand lightly patted her shoulder. "Please, give her space for her best to become better."

Aleida, reluctantly, nodded. Maybe she could give Margo a little leeway. But only a little. The moment she found out that Sergei was making detailed reports about her back to Margo, she'd cut both of them out. It would only dawn on Aleida later, when she understood the true reason behind the seven o'clock meetings, that discussing her work performance was the very last topic of conversation Margo and Sergei wanted to indulge in.

[shakespearean-fish]

Homecoming

[the completion of my previously unfinished @inklings-challenge story | crossposted to AO3]

The third-class carriage was crowded, and Adrian a’Loretia sat less than comfortably beside a burly man chewing pepperleaf and a pair of chattering women. He at least had the place nearest the window, which let him forget his surroundings as best he could. Grey fields of stubble and groves of golden half-bare trees kept unwinding past him. Autumn was nearing its end, chill and damp, and his bad leg ached like a guilty conscience. Another glance at his watch showed that it was not quite three o’clock, with half an hour yet before they reached the station at Loretia. Only a moment, when compared to twenty years.

(He and his father were in the vestibule waiting to leave, waiting for the state police to arrive at the given time. There were voices outside; a heavy hand pounded on the door. “Let them in,” his father said.

Adrian opened the door, and they pushed into the house. Men in grey uniforms, men with ordinary faces that he might have passed by on the street. “Under the terms of the Appropriation Act,” the chief officer said, as if reciting a speech he had learned in school, “you are permitted to retain property the value of which is not more than sixty miré. We will perform an inspection to ensure compliance with such terms and escort you from these premises.”

The two of them watched while the officers began to search through the bags they had packed, unfolding shirts and riffling the pages of books. Adrian’s father stood tall and straight, unchangeably still the Prince a’Loretia. One of the men caught sight of the gold ring on his hand. “That ring. What’s it worth?” he demanded.

“It was a gift from my wife. It does not exceed the limit.”

“Surrender it,” the chief officer ordered, before the man who had spoken could reply.

The prince slowly took the ring from his finger and held it out on his palm.)

A sudden change of light brought Adrian out of memory. The train was passing through a tunnel in the side of a hill, and the window had become a dim mirror where his own pale face gazed back at him. It could no longer be called the face of a young man, with the first hints of grey in the dark hair, the fine lines drawn under the eyes. The years had run away from him into emptiness. His father had hoped that he would enter a profession; he had gone through a succession of petty clerkships. His father had hoped that he would marry and produce an heir; even if he’d felt any desire for marriage, he had nothing to give to a wife. He was the twelfth Prince a’Loretia, and he would be the last.

The outskirts of the town were coming into view, fields and woods stretched out beyond the tiled roofs. The train began to slow and stopped with a loud sigh of brakes. The carriage filled with a confusion of people balancing valises and bundles, shepherding children, jostling toward the doors. He waited until the crowd had thinned to take his bag and follow them onto the platform; the two women got off in front of him, still continuously talking. To be out of doors was a relief after two hours of stale air and the pungent smell of pepperleaf, and he breathed in deeply. Leafmould, woodsmoke, the last hay of the season.

He went to the window and found a bored-looking girl there. “A ticket to Seressa, please.” Saying even those few words, Adrian realized that he did not know how long it was since he’d spoken Atrurian, and it was strange to hear his own voice.

“One to Seressa,” the girl repeated. “That’s one and forty.” She watched him count out the coins. “You sound Loretian the way you talk, but you don’t look it,” she said idly.

“I’ve been abroad.” He took the ticket and thanked her, grateful that she didn’t care to ask where he’d been or why.

Adrian paced along the platform. It was nearly an hour until the next train, and the thought of spending so long in the cramped waiting room made him restless. Without knowing where he meant to go, he stepped down to follow the road that led eastward from the station into town. It was unpaved as he remembered, a stony dirt track. The last time he’d traveled that road, it had been in the opposite direction, sitting beside his father in the hired carriage while the police drove behind, on the way to board the train that would take the two of them over the border to Karlrecht. The trees along the roadside grew closer as he went farther, and the smell of damp earth and leaves grew stronger. A little fox, its coat turned grey for winter, ran across into a thicket, and the sight of it was like meeting an old friend. Adrian could almost imagine that he had never left Loretia, that he still belonged to the land.

Not far ahead, a narrower path ran away from the road, turning north. Adrian hesitated. His bag felt heavier, and the ache in his leg gripped tighter. It might as well have been a warning to turn back. Instead, he left the road and walked on half blindly, not allowing himself time to reconsider. The path was well kept, clear of brush and fallen branches. He began to recognize particular trees: the thick-trunked oak with squirrels’ nests in its boughs, the chestnuts that he would plunder in autumn. Around a last bend in the path, the trees gave way to open country. He stopped under the eaves of the wood.

The path became a drive that curved into a broad space of gravel, where a large black auto was parked. Behind, there was the house. The pale yellow stone of the walls was more weatherworn, the vines that climbed it were thicker, and yet it was the same house that he had returned to, night after night, in countless dreams. The garden spread around it, now faded and dormant with oncoming winter. Adrian wondered briefly if they had left his mother’s grave there, or if she had been displaced, buried like his father in a paupers’ field. Beyond the garden were the orchards, and farther off the farmland that had once been part of the estate, before it was sold away to pay the eighth prince’s debts.

(The two of them were walking together through the pear trees. A warm autumn sun, dappled with leaf-shadows, played across the prince’s stern face and softened it. “Three hundred years,” he said out of silence, thinking aloud. “Three hundred years. Long enough, in the end. All things pass.” He paused then and seemed to remember Adrian. “And that’s no comfort to a young man losing his birthright.”

Adrian had not heard his father speak that way before. “But I understand,” he faltered, unsure of what to say. “I’ll do what I must.”

His father looked at him for a long moment. “Yes,” he said quietly, “you will.”)

He stood still, half in the present and half in memory. His mind was becoming strangely clear. There was only a great calm, as if he had moved through pain and found release. He had seen it again, and now he could leave it. He could give what had been taken, and with that thought he was no longer a man in a worn overcoat, tired and homeless, but a prince, who could be generous. He had come into his inheritance. Adrian, twelfth in succession, by the grace of God and grant of the king the Prince a’Loretia, turned from surveying his lands, and the leaves rustled about him as he walked away.