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thesummerpetrichor · 10 months

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𝓥𝓲𝓭𝓮𝓸 𝓰𝓪𝓶𝓮𝓼

Dads best friend!Javier Peña x afab!reader

Summary: For years he’d lived in your head like a distant memory. Something too good, too far away to attain. You shouldn’t be so hurt he’d left his old life behind, but how could you not be, when you had been such a big part of it? But you can’t hold a grudge. Not when he’s standing in front of you– doing everything to prove he’s not a stranger.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI you will be blocked. Mentions of DEA, dads best friend trope, morally questionable relationship, minor angst, chunky age gap [reader is in her 20s Javi is in his 40s], banter, lotsa sweet moments, explicit language, explicit sexual content, couch sex, inebriated sex, cigarette and weed smoking, alcohol, dom!javi, sub!reader, pet names [cariño, baby, babygirl etc.], dirty talk, major praise kink! [lotsa good girl action iykwim] some over the clothes action, grinding, fingering, unprotected P in V [ do better!!]. Let me know if I missed anything!! <;3

Word count: 12.8k oops

A/N: Oof this took longer than I thought it would but I’m so excited for you to read it. Javier is the man of my dreams here 🥺. lotsa porn for you nasties. morally questionable relationship fr but it’s fiction so we’ll forgive Javi. I hope you darlings enjoy! Mwah 💗

Masterlist

Swinging in the backyard

Pull up in your fast car

Whistling my name

Open up a beer

And you say, "Get over here

And play a video game"

The last time you saw him you remember all but tackling him to the ground as he walked through your front door. He had bought you a special edition copy of your favourite Hans Christian Anderson fairy tale, and DVDs of ‘film noir’ movies– the kind your dad didn’t like you watching. You spent the days reading as he smoked cigars by your pool, and you remember your father joking about his ‘bad influence’ as he poured you drinks in the evenings.

That was several years ago, and now all you had left of him was a hazy memory of that distant summer, a fading image of his golden eyes glittering in the setting sun, and your copy of “The Little Mermaid”. That had been the last that he’d visited you– before his work got in the way, before he decided he’d rather stay in Bogotá than come home.

Your life had gone on, and while every year you wondered whether he’d make his grand appearance, as you grew older you came to terms with the realisation that it would just be you and your old man lounging on the patio on those treasured, warm, golden evenings. At university you were pursuing those dreams you always wanted to, the ones your father wasn’t so keen on you chasing, the ones you’d confess to him when he would drive you around the city– to that faraway ice cream place no one else would take you to.

He was all cigarettes and whiskey and secret promises.

“He’ll literally kill us, it's midnight.” It was too late, he was grabbing his keys and jacket, and despite your better judgement the thought of the fairy lights by the beach as you walked with your mint chocolate chip cones had you giggling as you followed him out the door. It was your 18th birthday. “He doesn’t need to know now, does he, cariño?”

He’d telephone your father once in a while, you knew because your house would fill with laughter only invoked by one culprit. You wondered what adventures he was on, were they like the ones he’d tell you as you sat by his side till the early hours of the morning? You wondered if he even remembered– remembered you.

But now you were in Bogotá, in the sweltering June heat, suitcase in hand, scanning the crowd for a face you barely remembered. You were scared, stupidly so, worried that your physical proximity would do nothing to mend his distance. You worried he wouldn't see you as he did before, wouldn't remember your inside jokes, your mischief, how you’d beg him to take you to that dance bar because your dad didn’t like you going alone. That he had somehow morphed into someone you couldn't recognize. You felt hot all over once again, and this time no thanks to the summer sun.

Your head turned left to right, and you spotted among the crowd families reuniting, couples kissing hello, young people returning home, lone travellers, lonely travellers, and in the hustle bustle a black leather jacket walking briskly towards you. He looked older, and tired, but his eyes still sparkled the way you remembered, still turned golden when they met the sun. From the distance he spotted you, and you watched expectantly as his furrowed brows relaxed into a calm, almost surprised expression. You felt a little short of breath, felt suddenly larger than life, as he neared you, your mind spinning and hoping, praying that he was still the man you knew.

“What have you done with my cariño?”

He was looking down at you with that same smile. Everything about him was really the same. He still smelt like tobacco and cedarwood perfume, still wore the same leather jacket, the same faded, button up shirt– with the first two buttons undone. In a moment you felt your mind's eye reconstruct those waning images of him you once cherished, from the dells of memory. And now you saw him vividly, reclining in his chair, sipping his whiskey, leaning on your porch, hair falling in his face in soft curls as he lit his cigarette.

He was a lot more handsome than you recalled.

“Hi” You were smiling so wide your face hurt, and despite the years of his absence there was a familiarity you found comfort in, a sense of belonging, and maybe naively… longing. His hands moved to grab you by the shoulders, and he stepped back to get a good look at you, almost examining how time had passed. “Lookat’ ya, university girl now huh, smart cookie?” The way he looked at you had your heart pitter pattering– with so much pride, and gentleness, and adoration.

Without any hesitation he pulled you into his chest, wrapping you up in his arms, holding your head against him. Waves of calm washed over you, an immediate reassurance you were desperate for. It was his non reluctance, his lack of worry, the way he brought you into his arms like nothing else mattered. With a heavy sigh you collapsed into him, all the uneasiness you felt before melting away as you melted into his touch. He felt warm, and strong, and like you’d remembered.

He was everything you’d remembered.

You felt yourself relax. It had been a long day, a long time getting away from your father, who, despite the fact that you had been living alone for years now, had called you about a thousand times – reminding you to take all your things, to be careful, and importantly to not get into any trouble.

If there was one thing everyone knew about Javier, it was that he was trouble, trouble, trouble.

He was still smiling when he gently pulled away, still looking at you with the same enthusiasm. He was happy to see you. He chuckled as he let go of your shoulders, and you felt your chest swarm with butterflies when he grabbed you by the hand and twirled you around, and in typical Javier fashion produced a white lily from his shirt pocket, and tucked it behind your ear.

“Welcome to Bogotá cariño”

You felt your cheeks heat. For as long as you could remember you pretty much idolised him, and the longer you didn’t see him the more distant and adored he had become. You had worked that distant memory up so much, the memory of that fateful summer, that he’d come to be a symbol of fear and dread in your head. At least until that moment.

You felt silly for ever thinking he’d be different. And there he was, standing right in front of you, putting flowers behind your ear. You mumbled a soft thank you, securing the lily, which was inadvertently an excuse not to meet his overwhelming gaze.

“Your old man give you a hard time on the way up?”

You laughed as you rolled your eyes. If there was one person who knew how much of a stickler for organisation and responsibility your father was, it was him. “He gave me an entire list of things to not do”. Javier’s deep baritone joined your laughter, and he shook his head in faux irritation at the mention of his best friend.

Reaching down for your bags he leaned beside your ear, and you felt your heart race when you turned your head ever so slightly to meet his gaze– at that glimmer in his eyes, his mischievous smile, and raised brow.

“Well, he’s no fun now, is he?”

And with that he was heading towards the exit.

—

I'm in his favourite sundress

Watchin' me get undressed

Take that body downtown

I say, "You the bestest"

Lean in for a big kiss

Put his favourite perfume on

Go play your video game

“He says I'm like you, y’know?” You leaned your elbow on the open window, knees to your chest as you sat curled up in the passenger seat of his car. His eyes were on the road, but his attention remained on you, and you were instantaneously reminded of your trips to the pier, your mint chocolate chip ice creams, and innocent secrets.

You felt warm and fuzzy inside, and your eyes wandered the beautiful Colombian city –the colours, and the smell of summer flowers, and food as it wafted out of the mom and pop restaurants you passed.

“Yeah, you a troublemaker?” He glanced at you momentarily, just in time to catch you rolling your eyes. “”M not, but he thinks Dora’s wreckless for wandering around without her parents.`` His laugh was hearty and he had that smile, that tilt of his head you were sure had all the women around him swooning. You felt your cheeks heat at the thought, especially when he chided you. “Cariño” he dragged out every syllable of that treasured pet name, shaking his head, and raising his brows in your direction, teasingly. “Okay.. maybe I like to have a little fun, but I’m still not like you.”

Letting out an exaggerated gasp his head whipped towards you. “Fuck’s that supposed to mean?!” Your head was buzzing, he's still the same, the same.

“I’m good.” He rounded the corner, and you couldn’t help but wonder who else had been in the passenger side of his car, getting this view you so cherished. You didn’t know why you cared, or why you were even wondering in the first place. It wasn’t any of your business, but somewhere deep down it made your heart ache.

“I know you are honey.. Thought your dad was gonna’ have a fuckin’ heart attack when he called me.” You could only imagine. The poor man. The thought of him persuading Javier to convince you to stay with him for the sake of his peace of mind making you giggle.

“Can you blame him? It was either you or Maria, and somehow you're the better of the two evils.” When you decided to come to Bogotá you originally planned to stay with one of your close friends from university. She had offered you a room in her apartment for as long as you needed. The both of you had applied for the same summer program, and were looking forward to spending your vacation together. That was before you confessed that a certain somebody also lived in Bogotá. A somebody you weren’t initially keen on meeting again. Somebody you had planned to avoid at any cost during your stay.

You weren’t really sure why– if you wanted to keep him away out of spite, or convenience, or fear, but all you did know was that when Maria had practically forced you to ask your dad to give Javier a call you were nothing short of petrified. She would not let it go, even said you’d regret not meeting him, better yet staying with him after how much you’d talked him up in the time you knew her. She was so confident she placed a bet you’d give up her house for his in less than forty eight hours.

“I’m a cop, I’m the obvious choice here cariño” His confidence was charming. He was deceptively charming.

“Yeah. A terrible one.”

“Was a little shocked you wanted to see me..” sometimes you really thought he could read your mind. Not just in that moment, in fact he had a habit of hitting on right whatever you were thinking about, whatever was bothering you, things you felt you couldn’t tell anyone else because they wouldn’t understand. You were not sure if and how you wanted to respond, and if you did honestly whether he would know how much the whole situation had preoccupied you.

“Strictly practical. Wanted to see if you remembered me..”

“‘Course I remember you, been haunting me like a little ghost since I last visited..”. you thought you might just explode at his teasing. You asked yourself if he was being truthful, if he truly thought about you, about how he’d up and left.

“You’re the one that disappeared into thin air!” Undeniably, despite the laughter and banter there was a tension in the air– floating between the two of you heavy and low. But what was he expecting?

Thankfully, the car came to a slow and gradual stop at the side of a small side street, where you spotted a small glass door over which flowers blooming from the floor above had been cascading. “Where are we?”

“Mint chocolate chip” One hand on the wheel, the other grabbing his keys, he looked at you as he spoke, so matter of factly it made your heart flutter. Like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “No pier, or fairy lights though, and no thrill of running from your papa.”

He remembered.

Heart bursting with love ache, you weren’t really sure what to say. As if he had anticipated your fears he seemed like he was coaxing you into your natural rhythm. Reminding you he wasn’t some stranger whose house you were staying in out of convenience. That you knew him, and that he knew you, remembered you.

“Thank god for the last one..” The memory fluttered between you two– the same thoughts, hovering between your heads. He was opening the door, taking a quick check of the traffic. You stayed put, finding your bearings. With one hand extended he beckoned you towards him, offering his arm when you hopped out the car on wobbly feet. “Oh hush, you loved it, cariño. And he knew, I told him the next day.”

With locked arms you crossed the street, and as if no time had passed you had squished yourself to his side, and had smacked him against the shoulder lightly at his admission. “What?! Traitor!”

“I handled it.” He sounded quite impressed with himself, and when you tilted your head and locked eyes with him you noticed how he looked quite impressed as well. You pressed your cheek against his arm, the leather of his jacket brushing against your warm cheeks.

“You were always the fun one.”

A large ‘OPEN’ sign stared you blank in the face, that was until Javier had gently tucked a finger under your chin, and delicately directed your eyes towards him. “He’s your dad, ‘s not supposed to be the fun one..” he softly remarked, his smile remained, and you felt nothing but warmth, and comfort from his presence.

The moment fell naturally, and he reached forward to pull the door open for you, letting skip ahead of him and into the store. “Feels like my 18th all over again.”

—

It's you, it's you, it's all for you

Everything I do

I tell you all the time

Heaven is a place on earth with you

Tell me all the things you wanna do

I heard that you like the bad girls

Honey, is that true?

“You're the boss Peña, give me the word, and it’s done.” You caught Javier’s reflection in the mirror as you sat down to get ready. Fresh out the shower it took about three seconds for the summer heat to get back at you. He liked to keep his place freezing, and at times like that you could only be grateful– the cool air soothing your scorched skin.

Carillo, Murphy– you could recognize the voices as they bounced off the wall, the same men you’d met when they barged into his home unceremoniously at six in the morning. You would have preferred to meet them in actual clothes rather than your pyjamas, and maybe outside instead of infront of your concerningly large cup of coffee, but they seemed to be used to finding unexpected guests in Javier’s apartment early in the morning.

Regardless of the fact that they’d interrupted your quiet breakfast with Javier, they were really nice people. Carillo’s wife even sent some snacks over with him the next time he visited. One because she wanted you to try the local food, and two because “Javier had nothing in his kitchen.”

“I will. soon as that dick Stechner gets out of my fuckin’ way” reaching to put you necklace on you watched as Javier moved out of your field of vision for a quick moment, returning with a glass filled with ice and an ashtray. What were they talking about? You never really asked about his job, you'd tried to talk him out of it many times, but he never budged. One day he hated it, one day he didn’t.

What he was like at work was a point of endless curiosity for you– he just seemed so different. If you were being honest he seemed like an asshole. In the few times you’d seen him interact with his partners he’d barely cracked a smile, trading in his joking and teasing for curt jabs or looks of disapproval. He also admittedly liked ordering people around, telling them what to do. His phone rang about five thousand times a day, and each answered call was punctuated with an air of control, indifference, and the steady and constant confidence of a man who knew what the hell he was doing. And did not like to be questioned about it. The only people who seemed to break the ice were the two he was speaking to at that moment.

“Javi, think this one through, don’t be fuckin crazy.” The voices drowned out as you put your attention back to getting ready. Maria was right. By the time you called her the evening of your arrival you had abandoned all plans to escape Javier's home for hers. She was in hysterics, endlessly pulling your leg over the whole situation. Your overthinking, your panic, your regret, and most obviously your complete infatuation.

She had picked you up the next morning, and had impersonated you the entire ride to the university. You hoped that you didn’t sound the way she said you did when you spoke of him, that you weren’t all heart eyes. It only made you worried about what you sounded like when you spoke to him.

With your bag tucked under your arm you grabbed your shoes off the floor, heading towards the dining table. “You got work this evening?” you were hoping he didn’t. His eyes lifted off his work to watch you shuffle around the small kitchen. Opening the fridge you grabbed a bottle of chilled water, and leaned against the closed door as you spoke.

“Depends if they call me in, they’re tracking some radio signals so we’re sitting tight till then.” He was leaning back in his chair in absolute exhaustion. Knowing that his day started around seven thirty, and never seemed to end, you didn't blame him. The few days you had been staying at his place he’d join you for dinner and be right back to work in a second. This job of his pretty much consumed him, and judging by his commitment you understood why he had no time for anyone or anything else. The guy was practically married to his job. His job and his co-workers, that is. You wouldn’t be surprised if Murphy and Carillo’s wives were envious of how much quality time Javier got to spend with their husbands.

“So you’re staying up until they get back to you?” You didn't mean to sound so perplexed, but you were. Mostly at how unpredictable his hours were. Did he really want to leave the quiet, laid back life at home for whatever this was? He crossed his arms over his chest, and spoke to you in between puffs of his cigarette.

“Yes, cariño, I'm in my forties, dont got a bedtime.” The man could barely keep his eyes open, and when he lifted his glass to his lips you felt a little better about ditching him for your fun night out. Of course you wanted to sit with him, have him talk about everything under the sun, like he used to, but you didn’t want to be another thing he had to worry about.

You barely got to speak to him outside meal times. If he stayed home, safe to say he’d be preoccupied, and if he didn’t it would be just you, and the white noise in his empty apartment, like it had been for the past four nights you had been there.

The man looked like he needed a cup of tea. You reached for the kettle, pushing it on and leaning against the closed fridge door. “They tell you that at the old people's home?” Grabbing your buzzing phone off the counter you moved towards his surprisingly organised kitchen drawers, in which there was little besides some tea bags, coffee beans, jam, canned fruits and bars of candy. That combined with the eggs, bread and milk in his fridge came to make an almost comical representation of what most people would consider a bachelor's desolate pantry.

Your eyes shifted to the illuminated screen of your phone, an unread message staring back at you.

Maria: Leaving in five <3

As you took the bubbling kettle off the burner you made a mental note, reaching for a cup, and a tea bag from the unopened box of earl grey you were pretty certain Javier did not buy for himself, rather became the owner of thanks to one of the nice old ladies who lived opposite him.

“Somones in a mood today huh?” It was then you realised he had abandoned his work to watch you trudge around his kitchen barefoot in your little party outfit, one hand rested on his chin, one leg crossed over the other as he leant back in his wooden dining table chair.

The teabag bobbed in the steaming water a couple of times, before you were pulling it out and tossing it in the trash. You grabbed his blue mug by the handle– some generic, machine made ceramic devoid of any personality, something you’d probably find in a show home. It looked like it had always been sitting on his kitchen shelf, only seeing the light of day every once in a while when he ditched his liquor cabinet for the coffee machine on the far end of the counter. Knowing him that wasn’t often.

“I'm kidding .”

“Well cariño I was thinking we could go to the dance bar tomorrow, but now I guess I'll have to stay home and rest my old knees.” He looked so surprised when you placed the mug in front of him, rested on a white paper napkin. It was almost like he had expected you to make it for yourself. The chair made a slight squeak against the floor as you pulled it back and took a seat, pulling his glass, now lined with the slight golden residue of whiskey, towards you. He was still surprised, a little taken back even, but not in offence, rather a tender, grateful smile tugged at his lips.

“Since when do you dance?” With your focus no longer split between tasks you turned back to the conversation at hand. Making sure to emphasise you remembered just how uncharacteristic Javier’s little suggestion was.

He took a sip of the earl grey, leaning forward and letting his shoulders fall ever so slightly. The glimmer of a distant memory played in his eyes as he met your gaze.“I don’t. But you do.” Your little reminiscence played in the back of your head like a movie reel, the soft sound of music from the dance bar by your house hanging in the air. As if transported into a distant dream you could see clusters of people twirling and dancing with the beat, like little ghosts behind Javier as he spoke.

“And who am I going to dance with” When you said those words out loud you meant for them to sound a whole lot more utilitarian than they ended up sounding. Whether it was hope, or some odd suggestion you were in no mood to unpack where from deep in your subconscious that had come. All you could wish for is that he didn’t notice.

“Plenty of people at the bar who’d love to dance with my darling.” And there it was, that answer you dreaded, delivered with that signature smile, with that warm, twinkling light in his eyes. “You don't have work tomorrow?” unable to bear the thought you moved along to more practical matters.

He was already halfway through that cup of tea, and like his body was in the middle of some sort of spiritual cleanse you could see him resurface somewhat coherent and with eyes that weren’t half as dead as they were two minutes ago.“‘S friday, need the time off. Besides, I'd kick myself if I didn't make good on your time here. These fuckers still gonna be around when youre gone.” Sometimes you wondered if he was talking more to himself than he was to you.

You felt a little buzzing in your purse, and you rummaged through it to find your phone. A text from Maria reminding you you needed to leave. “Yeah, you're gonna sit at the bar like a senior citizen while I have some fun?”

Rising from your seat you searched the room for the last of your things. Notwithstanding the lack of time he had put into making the place home there were still small elements of him scattered throughout that little two bedroom. The fresh flowers in a glass vase on his centre table, framed pictures and art he’d been collecting over the years, small artefacts he’d brought back from his travels. It was so odd, the whole place stood suspended somewhere between home and a place far from it. Familiar yet distant.

“Hey, they’ve got great drinks.”

He finished the last of his tea, and you picked up his mug and set it in the kitchen sink, running it under the tap water for a quick second to rinse it. Truth be told, you just wanted to sit and chat, and if half heartedly doing the dishes was going to give you a few more minutes with him you’d take it.“Don’t get too excited old man, I'm not driving us home.”

“I can take a few cariño, ‘m not like you.” You travelled to where you’d dropped your heels.

“Slander.” pausing momentarily in the middle of putting on your shoes you lifted your head to find him looking back at you. His eyes had seemingly followed you all the way behind him, and he was still smiling. Had you not had one hand on his couch holding you in place you just might have tumbled over.

“You be careful tonight, and don’t walk anywhere alone, especially if it's past ten. I know you– can't even read a damn map, so no wandering around, call me.” It looked like he had already given up on you, one hand rushing to his face to rub his tired eyes, the other plastered to the table. He was shaking his head the way he did when he caught you sneaking out your house one summer.

“I’ll think about it.” of course you were going to call him, you didn't need an excuse. But you liked to see him all agitated, bossing you around like you knew he liked to do. With everyone, that is.

“No no, you're gonna call me when you get there, and you're gonna call me when you leave, and you're gonna tell me exactly how, and with whom you're gettin back.” You were already at the door, hoping to escape him, but he was yelling your name in that exasperated voice, and you heard him shuffle from his seat to stand up– catch you and drag you back in case that was necessary.

“But-” Turning to meet his peering form over the wall of his living room you parted your lips, attempting to protest, playfully, but still protest, but he wasn't having any excuses.

He was doing that thing where he looked at you with his soft eyes, slightly downturned, and the look could convince you to do just about anything, made you feel like you’d rather die than let them down. Anybody else’s nagging would have got you on your last nerve, but you only felt warmth, concern and care when he did it. Hell he could throw you off his roof and you’d still think the same.

“No buts, no excuses. Thats final” You giggled, half because he sounded so much like a boring old man, and half because he was now leaning against the wall, with the top buttons of his shirt undone, and his hands on his hips, hair dishevelled from when he’d combed his fingers through it.

“You sound like him..” With brows raised you looked at him expectantly, taunting him with your teases, and you nearly jumped out the door when he walked towards you, ready to grab you back to him as you escaped. Any insult was better than being compared to your dad, especially in this context. “Don't you say that, cariño” He was laughing, and you were laughing, and his otherwise quiet apartment building was now singing with an uncharacteristic gleam, a glow, a gaiety.

Your shoes clicked against the floors as you scurried away, turning one last time to see him leaning against his door frame, shaking his head as he watched you skip into the night. “I don't make the rules old man”. You heard him chuckle behind you as you ‘sing songed’ your words, your heart fluttering when you noticed he waited for you to get outside before he closed his front door.

–

It's better than I ever even knew

They say that the world was built for two

Only worth living if somebody is loving you

And, baby, now you do

“Thought I told you not to wander around alone, cariño.” You jumped, but it was too late, he had wrapped you up in his arms, and you were pressed up against his chest, and his voice was a low whisper in your ear. And you were dizzy. The alcohol in your system only partly responsible for your petrified squeak, wavering voice, and the way you swayed gently in his embrace. But when he kissed the top of your head ever so gently you could only giggle, recognising that warm hold, that faint smell of whisky on his shirt.

“Psycho, you scared the shit outta me.” He was laughing when you turned around, exhausted, defeated almost, but his eyes were gleaming in the moonlight, and you felt yourself all but swoon at the way he was looking down at you. “You’re lucky I'm the only psycho you ran into” Grabbing your face in his hands each word he spoke was punctuated with hyperbole, and a teasing disbelief. Your own hands shot up to grab his, and your cold palms thawed at the touch. You were sure you felt your heartbeat in your throat when his thumbs brushed the swell of your cheeks, you were sure he could feel the way they grew hot under his rough hands. “Just came out for a smoke, don’t go into cardiac arrest now” your fallen cigarette crumpled under your foot when you stepped on it, and in the midst of your eye roll you watched as he stepped back to look at you in faux disapproval.

“Look at ya’, terrible.” He motioned his head towards the trampled butt on the ground below you. “Me? Terrible?” When you closed the distance between the both of you you stepped on it again, hearing it crush under your shoes, and shoved his shoulder playfully, poking his chest with your pointer finger. “Drinking on the job again old man?” Then he laughed again, this time at your playful yet truthful accusation, and the sound made you feel lighter than a feather. How could one person be so charming, so charismatic, at one in the morning? Like he was divulging a trade secret he raised his brow. “Keeps me awake.”

The blaring music in the club was muffled in the distance as you walked towards the steps of the church in front of you, the quiet and empty street echoing your footsteps. He walked beside you, kept you close on that pleasant summer night. When you turned your head your eyes caught a group of men huddled by a small food stall at the side of the street, hunched over some beers, smoking cigarettes. In the crowd there were two familiar faces. Steve was dressed casually, Carillo and the others in military fatigues. You wondered why he wasn’t walking in their direction, but judging by the look on their faces you concluded there would probably be a better time to do so. Besides, you weren't complaining, he was enough, he always was.

They shot you a half hearted wave, and two strained smiles from across the road.

Taking a seat you pat the stone ground beside you, watching as he looked around, almost willing someone to come into sight, one foot on the steps leading up to the cathedral entrance, wringing his hands. “What’re you doing here anyway?” You wondered what he had done that evening, but you knew you were better off not asking. You were glad to have bumped into him, and the last thing you wanted to do in your giggly half tipsy mood was have him explain something you were sure would keep you up at night. Not when he had that look on his face, his work look.

“Waitin’ on an informant, but someone fucked up and well, we’re back at square one.” he was still searching the street when he bent down to sit beside you, so close your knees bumped.

You felt your heart race a little when he pulled out what looked like a joint he had rolled moments ago from his shirt pocket, when he leaned back on his arm, lit it and looked up at the sky as he took a drag. You wondered if in your little emotional panic, your worry of his disappearance you had blocked out the memory of his striking, handsome face. You wondered if he had always been this beautiful, this captivating, everything he did set you on fire, the way he carried himself.

“Smoke a lotta weed for a DEA agent.”

He turned his head towards you, letting it fall lazily in your direction, and his hair fell in his face the way it did all those years ago, and he shot you that smile that felt like home. “Been a long day cariño”. He was looking back to the sky, but your eyes didn't leave him. He looked so tragic in the moonlight, half lit by its platinum glow. You weren’t sure if it was the liquid courage, or the fact that his shoulder looked more inviting than ever, or the fact that a cool breeze just blew by, and you shivered as it brushed your shoulder, but you leaned your head against him, and you felt your tummy erupt with butterflies when he placed a lingering kiss to your forehead. It was forbearing, and merciful, and you wondered if he had somehow noticed your girlish fawning, your silly admiration, and your heart dropped momentarily, but was soon resuscitated by his soft laughter.

“Remember those cigarettes of mine you'd steal back in the day.” The breeze had picked up, and it’s cool was far more jarring when it kissed your hot cheeks. “‘S’not stealing… you knew.” you closed your eyes, and let yourself get lost in that comfortable memory. “yeah , could've told your papa” He was looking down at you, but you kept your eyes ahead, too intimidated to meet his gaze.

“Didn’t”

“Should’ve” His voice was a mumble beside you, and you found yourself thinking about your dad for the first time in a while, and you were instantly reminded the man you were so taken up by was his best friend, and almost twice your age, and saw you as nothing more than his buddy’s daughter. You stiffened against him.

He took another drag of his joint. “If he was here right now his blood pressure would be through the roof”. A cold breeze tickled your skin, and he rubbed your shoulder gently and despite the murmured chatter in your head you couldn’t help but melt into his touch.

“Darling, I can't believe you've been out this long.” He was laughing, and his horrible impression had you in a similar state. Conflict bubbled in your chest, each word slipping past his lips reminded you of your relationship, of your dad, and what he would think if he could peek inside your head, at your little thoughts. You felt guilty, but how could you hold that feeling? Not when he was shaking with joy beside you, not when he had his arm around you the way he did, not when you were tucked into his side, shielded from the winds.

“You smell like a dingy bar” It felt so natural, your regular routine, the way it had always been, when your dad would say something funny, or outrageous, and the both of you would have a field day. It was well incorporated in your repertoire at that point, but the years apart had the memory sitting on a shelf in your brain, collecting dust. You remember when your dad made a terrible joke the day of your senior prom, and the two of you refused to let it go the entire evening. Javier had a vocabulary of his favourite phrases, and so did you, and you couldn’t help but pull them out every once in a while.

“How am I going to survive you?!” You spoke in tandem, each letter dragged out with faux frustration, an uncanny similarity to your dad’s tone ringing in the air as your blended voices formed a familiar melody. It hung between you as he laughed heartily, and you wanted nothing more than to frame the moment, keep it tucked away where it would be yours, only yours forever. The starry night, a twinkling sky above you, the chirp of the crickets, and perhaps your most treasured person, holding you against him.

You wondered why he left, why he left you behind. Did he feel the same as you did in that moment? Was he happy to be there? To have caught you on your night out? After he’d called off his wedding all those years ago he’d become a rarer sight. You were too young to remember, and it wasn’t long after your parents got married. Growing up in your little town you’d heard he always had a reputation with women, but you never believed a word of the neighbourhood chatter.

They were not the same person– the guy everyone talked about, and your Javier. While you’d never give him a break from the teasing, bringing up all the times you’d run into women in the streets, asking if you’d seen him, you could never really imagine him as the man everyone made him out to be. He was reckless, sure, and impulsive, and insolent, and a hardass, but he was also gentle, and thoughtful, and gallant.

At least he was to you.

As if he could hear your thoughts, and they were so loud in your head you wouldn’t be surprised if he could, he broke the silence. “I wanted to come back cariño, but-”

“But you couldn’t, I know '' There was no point going over what had happened and why, and while you incessantly wondered you knew it was a fruitless exercise. It was just how he was, he liked to up and leave, disappear, keep his distance, and you wondered if that had anything to do with you. But you didn't want to kill the moment, more for yourself than for him.

“Glad you decided to come, cariño” It was like he was trying to convince you, of what exactly you weren't sure, but he sounded so earnest, so true.. and you felt deep down he was trying to make amends for his absence. Not just from you, but from the life he left behind. Were you an exception? Or a way to right his wrongs? mend all that had been pushed aside? You didn't know, but you’d worry about that later.

The winds had picked up, and the sky was gleaming, and for the first time in a long time you felt at peace.

“I like it here, it's nice.” When you spoke he was almost surprised, but your words seemed to only widen his grin. He squeezed your shoulder gently.

“Me too baby, me too.”

—

Singin' in the old bars

Swingin' with the old stars

Livin' for the fame

Kissin' in the blue dark

Playin' pool and wild darts

Video games

He holds me in his big arms

Drunk and I am seeing stars

This is all I think of

“Looks like they knew you were coming.” You swivelled the bar stool in your direction, hopping up on the seat. It was early in the evening, around seven, but the music was already going, and there were people on the dance floor, moving to the beat of retro spanish tunes. Javier took a seat beside you, still in his suit from work, shirt haphazardly tucked into his dress pants, tie loose around his neck.

“Why?” the bartender placed your drinks on the counter, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the fact that he’d stuck to his whiskey on the rocks. “They got the oldies on”. You were giggling, and while he wanted to pretend like he was far too tired to care about your antics he couldn’t help but crack a smile. There was a charm to it– catching a break at the end of the work week, the tranquillity of the weekend enveloping you like a safety net. One of you that is.

Friday night was busy at any joint, buzzing with nightlife, food and drink. Somewhere along the way you’d gotten up from your seat and headed to the large empty space in the middle of the bar, where tables and chairs had been cleared to create a somewhat makeshift dance floor. Javier was right, while he sat sipping his whiskey you found plenty of dance partners.

It was all easy, getting passed from one person to the other as the group formed a large circle. It was like you had disappeared into the crowd, bodies moving left to right in the dim green glow, only occasionally giving you a glimpse of the man sitting at the counter– face rested in his palm. Ask him to dance. These urges of yours were momentary, little private lapses of judgement that would only remind you of what was just not possible.

When he’d take you out back in the day he’d have some minor injury to blame for his lack of participation on the dance floor, and when he didn’t he was “a terrible dancer” or “had too many drinks”. After a while you stopped asking. You realised you’d never really seen him dance.

You had grabbed the hand of a stranger, letting them twirl you around– Javier was looking in your direction. For how much fun he liked to have you had come to recognize hardly any of it involved other people. Weddings, birthdays, barbeques. He was there. However, you’d always felt he looked at it as an obligation. A hi to the bride and groom, a bouquet of flowers, some meaningless small talk and he would disappear out the door. When he stayed it was solely in the company of a few familiar suspects– your dad being one. While he was often the subject of conversation, he was a pretty reluctant conversationalist.

It was hot, and muggy, and if someone asked you where you were in the room you surely couldn’t place yourself. Forcing yourself out of the chatter in your head you looked up, noticing finally that your partner hadn’t changed in the past 10 minutes.

He was looking down at you quite sweetly, he was actually quite handsome, your age, but he didn’t have a white button up on, didn’t have that sideways smirk. He wasn’t Javier. And unfairly, for that reason alone you didn’t want him. But who were you to say no to pretty green eyes, soft, delicate looking light brown hair, a black button up that wasn’t very buttoned up. Neither of you had the confidence to speak up, so you let him sway you side to side, one hand firmly planted on his chest.

You wondered what he really thought of you, if after this little visit he’d be more compelled to come visit, at least spare you a call. Would he disappear once again? Call your dad once in a while and ask him to deliver some impersonal message like ‘say hi to her for me’? You wished you could care less, but you knew you couldn’t, and something inside you told you he knew too.

A firm arm wrapped around your waist, spinning you in the opposite direction, faces turned to motion blur as you turned on your heel. “Looks like a saved you, cariño.” He was twirling you, holding your hand in his and pulling you into his chest. He hadn’t really saved you but at the same time he had. He could pick you up from a field of lilies and drop you in a medieval torture chamber and he’d still be your knight in shining armour.

What the fuck are you doing here? You wanted to ask, but you held back. You wondered what had prompted him on the dance floor. Did he think some weirdo wouldn’t let go of you? Had seeing you dance with someone else accomplished a task years of your coaxing couldn’t? You turned back, but the stranger had already disappeared, and Javier was directing your gaze towards him.

As you had always suspected he was a great dancer, and he sure as hell liked holding you close as you moved along the dance floor. The songs ran over the decades, and he’d often sing lines to you– smiling and pulling you towards him. He looked so handsome, lights reflecting off his face, his smile tired, but earnest, and wide. You almost couldn’t keep up.

“Danced your energy away?” Picking up the pace once again you twirled around him, unwilling to give in. “No! Why? your back needa rest?” You watched him laugh– shake his head and grab you by the hips. “Sure you didn't cariño.. Can't keep up with an old man?” Voice raw from yelling over the music, you pulled his leg. “Think I heard your knee pop.” His raised brow only aroused suspicion. “Oh really?” Before you could even respond his arm had hooked under your thighs, and his hand was on your back and you were being lifted into the air. “Oh my god!” Your own arms flung around his neck, both your laughs floating between you as he spun around.

It felt different and not because something in his head had dragged him out onto the dance floor. The way he was looking at you, the way he just couldn’t let go. It hurt your heart more than anything you’d ever experienced. The pain was conflicting– the love ache and the hurt. Did he know how much he meant to you? Did he even care? Something in your heart told you he did but you chalked it up to innocent hope.

The music slowed down, and you heard emerging from the stereo a familiar tune.

You’d hum it all the time, so much so it would drive your father nuts. In the kitchen, while doing chores, sometimes as you read by Javier’s side. On the weekend when you woke up early to help cook breakfast it’d be the first song on the playlist. You recall how he’d watch you dance around the kitchen, truth be told rather ungracefully in the mornings– spatula in one hand, kitchen towel in the other.They played it at some wedding once, and your friends had bounded to the dance floor with you just to ensure you didn’t miss a note. You were running so fast you all but collided with him, and he had to catch your falling form as you stumbled towards your best friend, shouting a quick “sorry” as you bounded in her direction.

He remembered.

Words were useless when you looked at him the way you did. An expression of surprise, confusion, realisation, all at once, a smile tugging your lips, your doe eyes gazing into his soft brown ones. And his arms were around you, and you were pressed against his warm chest, and you were gently swaying to the beat of the music.

“Looks like they knew you were coming.”

It felt like a blip in time, but it would’ve been hours. People came and left, all around you groups of twos and threes and tens, but you stayed, and he stayed. Smiling down at you, holding you tight. You were a little light headed from it all, feet fighting the urge to take a little break. You just couldn’t let go.

Plopping down on the bar stool you let your cheek hit the cool marble of the counter. Your legs felt like wet noodles, trembling when you finally sat down. You weren't really sure where Javier went, but it felt like an eternity he let you lay there with your eyes closed. Every second was one hundred times longer when he wasn’t holding you. His arm was firm around your waist when he finally helped you out of your seat. You realised he’d been standing only about two metres away the entire time.

“Let’s get you home, ‘s late.” He had picked your shoes up from where you’d abandoned them, his own blazer draped over his arm– the one you weren’t hanging on to. With closed eyes you let him lead you out into the night, all your weight firmly supported by his broad shoulders, your stumbling feet only stabilised when he tucked you into his side.

Unintelligible to anyone but him, and muffled by your yawn and cheek pressed against his upper arm you slurred your words as you spoke. “Past your bedtime?”

He chuckled to himself, placing a soft kiss to the top of your head, his voice a faint murmur– the last thing you really remember hearing. “Yes cariño, past my bedtime…”

—

It's you, it's you, it's all for you

Everything I do

I tell you all the time

Heaven is a place on earth with you

Tell me all the things you wanna do

I heard that you like the bad girls

Honey, is that true?

“You been drinkin’ my whiskey….” He was leaning on the table, waving the glass you left out in the air, holding it between two of his fingers. He wasn’t upset, rather looked quite amused. You rubbed your eyes, making out his smile from a distance. “Couldn't sleep.” Peering into the room you were staying in you were sure he saw your blankets bunched up on the bed where you had been tossing and turning for hours. Your eyes caught the clock on the wall.

1am.

It had been a long day. Being assigned to a new supervisor proved to be a real curse. He was quite a piece of work. Patronising, condescending, everything in between. If that wasn’t enough he rejected your proposal, and asked you to submit a new one in two days. God knows you had a lot on your mind.

The kitchen cabinet swished when he opened it, bringing you back to the present. “God, you really are like me huh?” He still had his jacket on, but judging by the look on his face he needed a drink first. The couch dipped as you threw yourself on it, and you turned over its back rest to watch him move around the kitchen.

“I had like one shots worth, with like a whole glass of water, so not like you.” Curled up under his plush throw blanket you sank into the cushions, eyes following him as he sat down beside you. With a deep sigh he leaned back, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index. “Fuckin’ hell”

“Long day?” He picked up the joint he’d just rolled from the side table, groping for the handle of the drawer to grab a lighter. “Can say that..” It was just another night for him. You were lucky you heard him pull up outside, and had got yourself to look somewhat presentable so you could see him at least once that day. Granted that involved nothing but putting on a bralette.

Maybe it was the fact that it was late, or that you had such a shitty day, or that you just couldn’t help yourself anymore, but you leaned against his chest, snuggling into his side as he took a drag. “I would try and talk you out of this job, but I think I've exhausted all my arguments..” You twiddled your fingers, just wanting to melt into him and disappear.

“I don’t think there’s anything else I could do.” You shivered, his fingers tracing shapes on your upper arm. “Couldn’t do whatever it is you’ve been doing…” redirecting your gaze from your lap you looked up at him. “Sometimes it feels like I can’t either” He was looking ahead, voice low and rumbly, and just what you needed to hear.

“You’ve got time, got one’ve my lifetimes ahead’ve you” He pulled you closer, head resting against yours. “Don't say that” You poked his side lightly, hearing him chuckle beside your ear. “Oh yeah, now those jokes gettin’ to you?!”

Stewing in a comfortable silence you let yourself ease into his embrace, willing your mind to shut up for the time being and enjoy his company. The way he was holding you– so much more delicately than he ever had before had your heart clenching. “Tell me your day was better than mine.”

His words cut through the chilled air, and your heart soared at the thought that it even mattered to him. “No, sucked.” to anyone else you would have responded with a simple ‘it was good’, some white lie to avoid further questions, but you couldn’t lie to him, he’d figure it out one way or another. “My supervisor’s an asshole..”

Nothing was more comforting than the kiss he placed to the side of your head.“‘m sorry honey” He offered you his joint– seemingly having deserted his agenda of being a good influence in favour of apparently celebrating your mutual disappointment. You felt your cheeks heat.

“I've never smoked before.”

Gasping comically he whipped his head towards you. He tapped your nose with his index, pinching your cheek and giving you possibly the most suspicious look he could muster. At least he tried, because his smile peaked through the interrogative exterior. “You little liar.” The gesture had you jumping to defend yourself. Shifting to meet his drooping eyes you almost knocked him over as you plopped on the couch, letting him wrap his free arm around your waist to steady you. “No, promise!” You leaned your forehead against his, your eyes gazing into his in an attempt to convince him. Despite his disbelief you were indeed telling the truth.

“Oh really? Been drinkin’ too, trouble.” his hand snaked up the nape of your neck, cupping your jaw. It was then you realised just how close you were to him. Your eyes flickered to his lips momentarily. When you realised he had beat you to the task you were convinced you were hallucinating, or had somehow gotten high off the second hand smoke. In pain, you were in utter pain, unveiled and unprotected– subjected to his piercing gaze.

Painfully aware of the tension that had settled like a thick cloud over you, your voice came out small and strained, but also hopeful. “‘M not trouble….could be though”

The tightness in his jaw was something you couldn’t ignore. “Yeah, I know” In a moment of bad judgement, or in hindsight good judgement you decided you knew what you needed to do. You were exhausted of having to wonder. You were exhausted of asking questions, exhausted of his absence. You slung your leg over his thighs, lifting yourself onto his lap Leaning against his firm chest you peered up at him through your lashes.

“Baby, careful” You knew this time those words were not for you, you knew he was fighting the urge to gather you in his arms. You could see that look in his dark eyes– hungry, and hot. You could feel him, hard against your cotton panties. He bent down to press his forehead against yours, your noses bumping. “Cariño, you don't know what you're doing.” His actions were in direct contradiction to his words, his large hands cradling your soft cheek, pleading you to put him out of his misery. But you were selfish, like he had been all those years ago, and you needed him to put you out of yours.

“You don’t want this, Cariño” He swiped his thumb over your bottom lip. He was doing that thing again, where he was talking more to himself than to you. But couldn’t let him decide what you wanted, because for years you’d let him convince himself you’d wanted to keep your distance to maintain his own conscience– to make him feel better about how he’d disappeared from your life.

“I know what I want..” You didn’t mean to, but you were pouting, and despite your best efforts to speak with conviction you couldn’t help but come off a little pleading, “show me, please.” surely he knew you weren’t just talking about the weed.

His lips ghosted over yours, and you could just about burst into tears the way he was looking at you. He probably noticed the way your chin wobbled, the way your doe eyes blinked away from his. Because in a moment you heard him sigh heavily, painfully, and apologetically all at once.

And he was kissing you. Soft and slow, and gentle, and benevolent and like everything you’d ever hoped for. He tasted how you’d always imagined– like whiskey and cigarettes and everything in between. Like home. His thumb stroked your cheek gently until you pulled away, glossy eyed and wobbly on his lap.

“Want me to show you what?” And here you thought his eyes couldn’t get any darker. He mumbled into your lips, voice commanding and steady– everything you weren't. He grabbed the back of your neck and guided you back towards him. Threading your fingers through his hair you let yourself get lost in the shelter of his hold. You felt as though he could pretty much eat you alive, the way his lips were moving against yours– suddenly hot and soft and needy.

Heart racing you chased his lips with your own, but he steadied you with his hands, amused at your zeal. “Gotten all worked up now have we?” You couldn’t help it, you tried, tried to sit steady in his lap, but you just couldn’t, not when you felt his cock, twitch against your clothed pussy.

You rolled your hips against his, watched as his head fell back against the couch. The crease between his brows only persuaded you to continue. “Shit baby, tryna kill me?” barely audible, his rasp had you bracing yourself with your hands planted firmly on his chest. You dragged your hips again, leaning down and tugging the fabric of his shirt. He reached for the joint he’d abandoned on the side table, bringing it to your lips.

He observed you greedily. “That's it, good girl.” His voice had never sounded more strained than it did in that moment, watching you take a drag, eyes glossing over. The praise had your heart fluttering, you’d do just about anything to hear it again. Smoking wasn’t helping either of your causes, because it only made you press your pussy harder against his clothed crotch. This time his hips rose slightly to meet you, and he cursed lowly under his breath. Already unable to maintain control.

Taking another drag he leaned back, letting you rub yourself against him, eyes screwing shut every once in a while, just like your own. He’d bring the joint to your waiting mouth every now and then, revelling in the sight of you getting more and more desperate with each puff.

“dirty little girl..” you whimpered at his words. “rubbin’ that drippy lil pussy all over my lap.” You looked down, only to find a dark spot on his grey jeans, for where you pressed yourself against him. Incapable of stopping your movements you continued, relishing how the friction eased the throbbing between your legs. “Yeah? few drags got you all achy cariño, got you squirmin’?”

He was watching you, and you could make out his intense gaze through your fluttering lashes, his eyes scanning you up and down, then fixing on your face of strained pleasure. “Tell me how good it feels, Cariño” His palms smoothed up and down your thighs, harsh and slow, and exercising all the self control he could muster. It was difficult to answer, a response bubbling in your throat before you were incoherently blurting it out.

"Feels so good..” whining, you grabbed the fabric of his shirt in your fists, bouncing on his lap lightly to feel just anything against you, you wanted more, lust and intoxication clouding your judgement. “Please, need it, need it so bad” Losing all sense of restraint one of his hands reached for your hips, squeezing and gripping firmly.

He dragged your already rolling hips against him, sliding you against his clothed crotch to the point you couldn’t help but let your legs fall limp, your forehead press against his shoulder. “Need what?” You could feel the tick in his jaw where it was pressed up against your cheek.

His hand slipped between your bodies, moving your soaked panties aside to feel your wetness. You shuddered when you felt him against you, grinding down on his hand. “Fuck, look at that. So fuckin’ wet for me babygirl.”

“Need you inside me, please.” Nosing his neck you pressed a kiss there, mouth falling agape as he rubbed your clit, fingers teasing your entrance, just barely pushing into you. “Like this?” If your laboured breaths were any indication you couldn’t take it much longer.

You wiggled your hips, trying to bear down on his digits, but he pulled away only to squeeze the inside of your thigh. ““Gettin’ to you already? use your words baby” he was taunting you, your little ‘no’s making him smirk against your shoulder as he went back to sliding his fingers along the cut of your pussy. “What do ya’ want me to do to you? Tell me babygirl.” You knew the sweet talk was only meant to encourage you, and while it worked you couldn’t help the way your cheeks burned when you replied.

“Want your cock inside me. Want you to fuck me.. please … need it”

Now that he listened to, fingers pulling away and tapping at your lips. When you gazed down at them you could see how wet you really were– having drenched them in the little while he’d had his hand in your panties. Obeying you parted them, letting him slide them into your waiting mouth, sucking gently, the taste of yourself heady on your tongue. “Good girl.” Even though he looked quite composed on the outside you still noticed the way he swallowed thickly when your tongue ran along his digits.

“Want me to fuck the cute lil pussy?” you shook your head vehemently, and he chuckled at your enthusiasm. “That's my pretty baby.” he kissed you like he wanted to devour you, frantic, and urged, voice so rough it came out almost like a growl. His hands roughly grabbed your hips, flipping you to lay back against his couch. In a moment your sleep top and bralette had been discarded, in a pile on the floor alongside your shorts and his own clothes.

Slotting himself between your legs you looked down to where his fingers were tracing the inside of your thigh. You gazed up at him, upper body lit by the dim orange light of the side table, broad shoulders slumped as he admired the sight of you– on your back, in nothing but your panties, all for him. As he slowly pulled them down your legs, he sure seemed to relish the way the fabric of your cotton panties clung messily to your wet pussy.

“Poor thing, just need someone to take care of you don’t you?” It was less of a question and more of a declaration, and undoubtedly it made you feel open and weak. How could you not feel that way? There you were laid out in front of him, every part of you exposed, his toned torso being the only part of him you could really see thanks to the half lit room. It felt like if he looked just a little closer he’d be able to see right through your naked body– and into your scrambled thoughts.

His index teased your dripping hole, briefly dipping into you and coming back to rub soft circles on your clit. Gasping, your fingers flew to grip his wrist when you felt him slide his cock against your cunt, tip teasing your sensitive nub ever so slightly. “Relax babygirl, be good for me.” Bringing your hand to his lips he peppered your knuckles with kisses, willing you to ease into the cushions as he draped himself over your body. He grasped your face in his palm, kissing his reassurance against your forehead as you felt him line himself up with your leaking entrance.

You mewled at the stretch of him, at how hot you felt against him as he eased himself into your soft pussy. “Shit- so fucking tight-” his stopped for a second, like he was willing himself not to split you open with one quick snap of his hips. “can barely fit my cock in this lil pussy.” Leaning in your lips searched for his. He let you melt into him, fingers brushing against your side as if to calm you down.

It was so much– his weight on top of you, his hips slotted between your thighs, forehead pressed against yours. You could feel every pulse, every throb, every ridge of him inside you, nudging those spots you could never reach yourself– and he wasn’t even moving yet.

When he did start moving you couldn’t help the whimper that slipped past your lips. Your fingers digging into the flesh of his biceps, pulling him closer. You needed him, pressed up against your rising chest, holding you. “I know cariño, I know.” His right hand squeezed your waist, “Feels so good doesn’t it? Yeah feelin’ all full?”

His voice was so sweet, like honey, warm and sultry in your ear. You nodded a quiet ‘yes’. He cradled your face in his palm, nose nudging yours gently. Mumbling his own rhetorical “yeah?” he kissed the underside of your jaw. For the first time he felt as close as he physically was, big and thick inside you.

You were drowning in his arms, enveloped by them, cocooned in a bubble of heat, and low breathy sighs, and his lips ghosting over yours as he thrust into you– hard, but slow, and deep. “That’s it, just like that–” he picked up his pace ever so slightly. “Such a good girl.” His words were gruff, and stuttery and his breath tickled your ear whenever he spoke.

Feeling the drag of his thick cock against your pulsing walls your eyes struggled to focus on him above you. He on the other hand seemed to have no trouble fixing his gaze on your trembling form. “Makin’ me feel so–” he brought his thumb to brush the swell of your cheek, “fucking good, baby”. Your head buzzed at his praise, burning face turning to rest in his palm.

With your back lifting off the soft cushion you reached to pull him impossibly closer, wiggling your hips to meet his thrusts. “More, please, please.. Want it” you couldn’t recognise your voice, not when you were begging him, watching his eyes twinkle. “Yeah? Need me to fuck this pretty pussy harder?” you nodded– feeling embarrassed enough at his smirk of surprise to hide your face in his neck, but not enough to stop begging. Another soft “please” barely falling from your mouth.

Rising slightly he grabbed your hips, holding your thigh against his side. Your tilted hips granted him a whole new angle, and before you knew it you were throwing your head back, letting it fall against the upholstery. “You want that, don't you baby? Need me to stuff you full of my cum?” You could only respond with your sounds of pleasure.

He pushed you against the cushions, hovering above you to drive himself deeper, watching you turn into a moaning incoherent mess– your whimpers and whines bouncing off the walls and only exhilarating his pleasure. “That's right cariño, I gotcha’” one hand squeezed the flesh of your hip, then travelled up to brush against the exposed column of your throat– fingers tracing your skin before he was leaning down and placing sloppy kisses against you.

“gonna fuck this pretty pussy till she’s dripping with my cum.”

He must have noticed that dumb, hazy look in your eyes when propped himself back up, still fucking you till your hips pressed into the sofa’s cushions. “Fuck, nothin in that head of yours huh?” You made out his smirk of pride as you jostled around, trying your best to keep your eyes on him as he moved above you.

It was far easier said than done. Not when you could feel his cock against your throbbing walls, could hear his scruff groans whenever he felt you clench around him, not when he was looking down at you with his furrowed brows, and sweat gemming his hair– which’s curls had been ruffled out of place from when you’d ran your fingers through them.

Especially not when he shifted ever so slightly, and you felt his tip brush that sensitive spot inside you you didn't even know you had. Javier cursed above you, feeling you squeeze his cock. “that the spot huh babygirl?” he watched the way your eyes fluttered shut, face scrunching in pleasure as he hit it over and over and over again.

Your head lulled from side to side, your body in overdrive and completely overwhelmed at the sensations. That was until he was cupping your cheek in his palm, tilting your face in his direction. “Use your words for me.”. But you couldn’t, parted lips struggling to form anything coherent besides soft, little whines.

His hips snapped in a deep, slow thrust. “Say it..” Your eyes were barely open, and you reached and tried to grab him closer, but he stayed above you, unwilling to budge as he slowed to a complete stop– waiting for you to voice your needs. “Yes-”

He mumbled against your lips, nipping, and kissing. “Good girl, my good girl.” To that you nodded, back arching as he drove you closer and closer to the edge. Every part of you singing at his touch– how he kneaded and squeezed your hot flesh.

The coil in your belly only tightened and tightened, and you suddenly felt too vulnerable, too exposed to meet his hooded eyes. Turning your face to the side you let the plush throw blanket hide your hot cheeks, burying your face in it. “Look at me, wanna see your pretty face.” It was an instruction. One he expected you to follow like all the others.

You didn’t think he’d notice that hitch in your breath, the way you did the opposite and smashed your face against the soft fabric. It was all too much, and he was fucking into your soaking pussy, and his hands were roaming your body, and you could feel his skin brush yours, and you were dizzy, and overwhelmed and you could scream and–

And he was slowing down again, just enough to where he kept you on that edge, to where you could savour every bit of him inside you. – “Cariño, look at me..” God he sounded so tender, coaxing you out of your daze just enough to the point you shook your head ‘no’, whimpering and turning only further away from him.

He kissed your cheek, cooing at your overwhelm. Not to mock you, rather he sounded quite endeared, prideful even. “Baby” Nudging his nose with yours you felt his thumb rub soothing circles against the apex of your cheekbone, urging you in his direction ever so slightly. Your eyes fluttered open, just barely, only to find him smiling down at you.

“There’s my girl.”

“Need you to look at me when ‘m fuckin’ you.” He held your face in place as his hips met yours, slow and languid. No part of you was left untouched, his kisses adorning every inch of your exposed skin, lips coming to press against yours every now and then. It was like he could see through your nakedness, and the thought terrified you to no end, made you feel small and defenceless, and had your sensitive cunt squeezing his cock.

“You close honey?” When you nodded your nose bumped his, and he laughed before he was kissing you gently. He brushed the sweat from your brow, voice so mellow yet in control. “Cum for me baby-” You felt him deep inside you. So so so close. ”Wanna feel you cum all over my cock”

It rolled over you, slow and intense and deep, in waves. He held you close, cooing at your trembling frame, holding you against him. “'M here cariño, I gotcha, just like that.” Groaning, he watched your eyes struggle to remain open, rolling back into your head as he fucked your throbbing cunt. “That's my pretty girl.”

His own hips stuttered, thrusts becoming sloppy as he neared his release. Still experiencing the aftershocks of your orgasm you felt him fucking into your warm, pulsing pussy. You felt his cock twitch inside you before he was filling you up with his cum, a strained curse slipping past his lips.

Ears ringing you registered him catching his breath above you, but it was all too hazy for you to make out. All you really knew is that he hadn’t let go of you, hadn’t abandoned you on the couch to smoke a cigarette or pour himself a drink, instead he was peppering your face with little kisses. “ ‘m so proud’a you cariño– did so well for me.”

Pulling out he slid his hand under your back, flipping you over so you were snuggled into his chest. The cold air from the open window could barely touch your skin before Javier was throwing the blanket over you– keeping you warm, close.

You were still in your daze, but even as you lay on top of him, drifting in and out of a deep slumber you couldn’t shake the worry that when you opened your eyes he would be gone.

That he would have traded you in for the comfort of his bed, or worse would have disappeared into obscurity once again. The thought only stung more as you felt his cum leak out of you, mixing with your own to drip down your thighs obscenely.

You never really knew if he regretted it, if he wanted you for sure, if he liked having the weight of your body against him. Flinging your arms around his neck you tugged him impossibly closer, burying your face in his neck. A silent plea to stay where he was. You didn’t care if you seemed needy, or clingy or pathetic.

It was like he knew somehow, like your thoughts floated to him after you’d thought them. And as always there was no explaining to do, no questions to answer, nothing to say. His embrace was safe, and secure, and unwavering. “close those eyes for me cariño mìo” He planted a soft kiss to your nose, his arms tightening around you, palms rubbing soothing circles on your back. “‘m right here babygirl, not goin’ anywhere….”

You did. And he didn’t.

It's better than I ever even knew

They say that the world was built for two

Only worth living if somebody is loving you

And, baby, now you do

Now you do

Now, now you do

Now you do

I would also like to add that we are engaging with this concept solely in the realm and interest of fiction. This type of situation is a huge red flag. While the reader is seemingly consenting and enthusiastic there is a huge power imbalance between her and Javier. He has also known her her whole life and has been a significant part of her childhood. Engaging sexually or romantically in a relationship like that is creepy gr*omer behaviour. I used their past as a narrative device because this isn’t real, but please be aware of your media consumption, and that dynamics between characters in fic are vastly different from what is healthy, and ethical in real life. 🫶🐝💗

I really hoped you lovelies enjoyed it!! Please let me know what you think, I'd love to hear it! Thank you to everyone who reblogs my work, you keep me writing. Dividers and banners by @ saradika 💗🐝✨

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ellalalala · 6 months

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A semi-long rant about Dottore's implied self-hatred, loneliness and inner struggles

I am, like many others, endlessly fascinated by Dottore, which means that I've been sucking the game dry for any Dottore content I can find; I've watched the dialogue between him and Nahida numerous times, read the "Zandik's Legacy" notes over and over and even the description of the "Wise Doctor's Pinion" from the Pale Flame artifact set. So much has already been said about him, but I'd like to offer my own two cents about an aspect of his character that is often ignored in favor of his villainy: Dottore's inner struggles.

I'll recount everything that I've gathered and tell you of my interpretation of Dottore's character.

To start, one thing that I never see people mention is a line from Nahida's retelling of the Tatarasuna incident. In the very beginning of the cutscene, we see a monster covered in light blue fur (obviously Dottore) who Nahida describes in a very interesting way. She says:

"Once in a while, the monster would take off its fox fur at night, and lament to itself as it gazed at its reflection in the water: "I am a monstrosity, yet they are too foolish to see it. I pity them."

Of course, it's easy to say that this is just a fairy tale Nahida created to preserve Scaramouche's memories and that this could've been made up - which is only half true! We must remember that Nahida has seen Dottore's consciousness. She already knew of the arguments between his Segments when Dottore confronted her to take the Electro and Dendro gnoses. Why do I bring this specific line up, though?

Because this line outright tells us that: 1) Dottore spent sleepless nights in Tatarasuna reflecting on himself; 2) That he, perhaps sincerely, pitied the people of Tatarasuna for not seeing past his facade.

I also think that the use of the word 'lament' is very interesting. To lament means to express sorrow and regret for something. I would think that this implies Dottore feeling remorseful for not just who he was, but what he would do to Tatarasuna. To provide further proof, I think it is important to look at the expression on the furry monster's face (as Nahida portrays it) when it laments to itself:

(What a cute little thing.)

It looks a bit... upset, doesn't it? Like it is mad at itself as it gazes into the water. This expression, combined with his thoughts and the use of the word 'lament' gives us a clear sign that many ignored: Dottore isn't as shallow of a villain as we thought.

Later in the cutscene, Nahida says:

"But the monster soon found solace when another came to live among the foxes who was not their kin: a kitten, carved from the wood of a white tree, who had been abandoned by the humans."

And in that moment, we see a wide-eyed little monster gazing at the kitten:

(Feels really silly to use this as an example but you've gotta trust the process)

Here, Dottore found someone like himself. An outcast, a creature that did not quite fit in with the ordinary humans - someone who could understand Dottore's loneliness and ostracization. After getting chased out of his hometown for his blasphemous ideas, after getting expelled from the Akademiya and possibly exiled to Aaru Village for his heretical views - Dottore had finally found someone to whom he could say: "See? They will never accept us. It is you and I against them, for they will never understand us."

What person wouldn't seek companionship, after all?

But things didn't turn out the way Dottore expected them to. Unlike Dottore, Scaramouche didn't need to hide his true identity in order to be accepted by the people of Tatarasuna. Thus, the following happened:

"Furious at this happy resolution, the monster lit a fire on the mountain. The terrified animals panicked as the fire spread..."

... and we know the rest. What matters is this: Dottore was angry and jealous of Scaramouche. Exiled from his hometown, rejected by his peers, insulted and looked down upon just for wanting to destroy the imbalance between Man and God - and along comes a puppet, a creation of the Raiden Shogun, who receives acceptance and guidance from the people of Tatarasuna. Not just that, but the only creature who could share Dottore's loneliness is whisked away from him, proving once again that Dottore will never know what it means to have a true companion.

Thus he tricked Scaramouche into believing that Niwa had betrayed them, had him join the Fatui and later used him as the blueprint for the creation of his Segments. Dottore basically ruined Scaramouche's life out of bitter jealousy.

That should be it about Tatarasuna for now. What I'd like to focus on next is the conversation between Dottore and Nahida in the 3.2 Archon Quest.

There are a few lines that interest me, so I'll go over them one by one.

Dottore uses a lot of big words to sound like he's saying something profound when in reality he's saying nothing at all (a nice callback to his Commedia Dell'arte counterpart), but there is one thing that both he and Nahida place great emphasis on: the fact that Dottore, smart as he is, cannot make peace with himself.

First to say it is Dottore. After asking Nahida for her opinion on his Segments, he says:

"Indeed. It's difficult for humans... to make peace with themselves, not to mention oneself from a different period."

The line still feels out of place. It sounds as if he is musing to himself.

Again, we get a line about his Segments, after Nahida asked him to erase them:

"You were observing me, and that's how you know I've long grown tired of their doubts and endless arguments."

I think it's safe to assume that the arguing is a metaphor for his struggle of self-acceptance. It seems every Segment has something to say to the others, but more on that later.

Nahida uses Dottore's own words against him:

"Like you said, it's difficult to make peace with yourself. Being as smart as you are, have you managed to do that?"

It's important to note that Dottore doesn't answer that question, but even without that, it's obvious to us, the players - of course Dottore hasn't managed to do that.

Whenever Nahida questions the relationship between his Segments, Dottore easily changes the subject. For example:

"Is the relationship between all the versions of you really that bad?"

"I don't think there's any need to dwell on that. The surplus versions of me can be exchanged for a Gnosis. Do you think anyone can offer themselves at a higher price?"

His Segments all argue constantly. When considered that they are replicas of Dottore at different stages of his life, this takes on an entirely new meaning - beyond his facade, Dottore is a man who can barely make out who he is.

Consider this also: in "A Winter Night's Lazzo", Columbina tells him, "You're looking very young today, Doctor."

To which Dottore replies, "You know very well that I do not take that as a compliment."

A piece of dialogue that had been brushed off by many, myself included - until I realized what this might imply. Dottore finds Columbina's comment insulting because he hates who he is. He hates the younger versions of himself because they represent a Dottore who didn't have the knowledge he has at this current stage of his life. They weren't as smart, as knowledgeable. But that's not really the full extent of it, of course.

Dottore was never fully accepted by anyone, this we have established. In the Akademiya, the students called him a 'madman', a 'monster' (as said in the Wise Doctor's Pinion). When we meet him in the 3.1 Archon Quest, he is referred to as 'The Outcast'. He is always being alienated, but could we assume that he just accepted this rejection and decided to embrace the titles people had thrown at him? This is just... very bold speculation, of course. It is impossible to deny that Dottore didn't always naturally stand out due to his heretical views, but I think it's worth considering that he could have just chosen to be the monster people thought of him as. After all, in the confrontation between him and Niwa, Dottore tells Niwa to think of him as a monster and a demon (for a reason that was... meant to be comforting? Not very important right now).

Consider also how different all the Segments sounded when they found out that they were being erased. All of the voices, along with their manner of speech, varied greatly; I interpreted this as proof of the many masks Dottore has worn over the course of his life. Dottore abandoned whatever humanity he had and decided to embrace the mask of a monster, constantly reinventing himself because he isn't secure in his identity - perhaps he doesn't have one at all. He is a scholar, a Harbinger, a researcher - but without those titles, what is left? What is he left with when he sheds those facades? The constant dodging of Nahida's questions about his Segments, the arguments and the worries of said Segments, the introspection in the cutscene about the Tatarasuna incident - indeed, Dottore is a man filled with self-hatred. A lonely outcast who has never known the comfort of kinship. A monster who swallowed his loneliness and dedicated his life to research.

That should be it, I suppose. My brain is fried and if I remember anything that I might have missed, I'll add that info later.

I want to mention one thing: this doesn't mean Dottore is a misunderstood good guy - doesn't take a genius to know that that is not true. Dottore has no regard for human life (which is ironic, considering how he believes humans have great potential and he wants them to be equal with the Gods). He has hurt so many and I'm sure he will continue to do so. He is evil, but it should be noted that he was once just an ordinary human, too. There must be an explanation for why he is the way he is. It's easy to paint him as just a monster because damn he's good at what he does; but I like to think that there is a layer to him that we just haven't fully seen yet. I'm excited to find out more about him when Snezhnaya gets released in like 2 years... ha. If you've read this far, thank you a lot! Curious to know what you guys think. I love Dottore

#il dottore #dottore #lore speculation #genshin impact #zandik #i love dottore!

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blingblong55 · 6 months

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My Love, Mine all mine -Simon 'Ghost' Riley

Based on a request:

"Broken men know who to love, but not how to love. Broken women know how to love, but not who to love." This is so Simon related 🥺🥺

---- F!Reader, fluff ----

A/N: Because he isn't always some tough masked solider, he is a man with wounds and a life beyond the battle field

It wasn't a shared feeling, he knew that well. You and he had stayed up and talked about a future like you had a clue. He knew your issues, love isn't what you want at times, you miss it, want it, but sometimes just at times, you can't give in to it, in fear of something greater that you don't know about. The smoke of his cigarette gave his not-so-secret hiding spot away. "Better not ask for my jumper again, doll," he knew you were there, knew those steps all too well. You chuckle, "You have to be some superhero," you sit beside him. He shrugs, "Just a mere mortal," he smiles. Silence between you two, speaking the words lips fail to say.

Simon knew you he was meant to love you, but not ever meant to show it. And just as he was about to speak, you rested your head on his shoulder. Classic way to ask for his jumper because you once again forgot your own. "No, not this time, I'm sick today," he excuses. "What if I get sick?" you ask and he chuckles. "You can never get sick darling, remember New Year's Day last year?"

It was cold, wind and snow surrounded you and he walked to you. The night died down rather quickly, lovers kissing inside as you walked in the snow. Thirteen years of knowing the other, he knew you too well, you want to avoid the romance, avoid the cliche and have something different, but not all can be unique. You know well, he knows too, you turn around, "Go back inside, Si, you'll get sick." He shakes his head. "What, you're telling me you won't take care of me, love?" He gets closer to you, a little pout as he gives you his puppy eyes. "Don't do that, Simon." He smirks. "Doing what, all I'm saying is, why not let me be here with you and just shit-talk all those people who might invite us to their baby showers?" You laugh. "I'm wearing blue," you comment he rolls his eyes. "No way you'll make me wear pink," he shakes his head. You ignore it, knowing a baby shower would come within nine to ten months from your friends.

He knows you. He just doesn't know if he can ever love you. In this world, a man like him isn't guaranteed a happy ending. Maybe a cut to the throat, death in a dark place, bullets blazing as his body takes its last breaths, that is a guaranteed end. Nothing in this world belongs to him, not even the knife he carries. "I almost got sick," you recall. "Keyword is almost," he looks at the skyline. "So, what is new?" he looks over to you. "Same old story." It was mad, to know he can be the man who loves you unconditionally. You could stab him in the back a million times and a million times he would thank you for doing it. Love works in different ways, his love is dark and deep but real. You could break his heart, expose him to the world, turn him into his enemy, kill him over and over, and each time, he would say he loves you.

It's a dark and twisted fairy tale to love him, but it's love that no one can take from him. He can tell you he loves you over and over, but you would still ask him if it was true. You can kiss him, care for him, hug him in days or nights when he is the most vulnerable, burn the world and watch it fall apart for him, only to have him think it's all foolery. One hug, one kiss, and he would still question what love is. The meaning displayed in your eyes, the feeling displayed in his gaze but neither are too brilliant to take a step and claim what the poets oh so need to see. You are conflicted, getting your heart broken over and over by many lovers, asking and crying to the starry nights what is so wrong with you.

Do you love too much, do you care too much? What if it's you and not them? What then? Simon, the cold stare to the passers and the soft gaze to you. R/N, the confused lover with issues and questions that one man's lips hold the answers to. One New Year's Day, one whisper of a truthful 'I love you,' two hearts, one bed, tears and promises. What makes love is not what others perceive it as. Not for a soldier, not for a civilian who questions all her love. At dinner with friends, questions were asked of when either would settle down like the others did, not knowing the answer was right at that table. Simon and R/N, are two complicated hearts that beat for one reason. To live. But those two words can be more than just a basic meaning.

One stormy night, knock on the door and he opens, shirtless and with hope. "Hi," your hoarse voice is too soft. He opens his arms and you run to them. Antidote, what a soldier like him found in that night when he promised he would be more than just a soldier but a man who loves a woman. A woman who cries in his arms as she gets heartbroken again. Boyfriends, thinking they are better than a true woman who all she wants to do is love and care. Something a soldier like him looks for in the dark. "They don't know what they lost, dear," he kisses the top of your head as he holds you close to him. He is done trying to find reasons to not love you.

You are tired of not finding enough excuses to call him home. Your home. His home. An embrace of a man who all he wants to do is protect the last thing on this earth to love him. It was a shared feeling, you both know that well. It is believed that since the creation of our universe, our galaxy, the dust that made us, always tries to find a way back to its other half. And, as he holds you close, two hearts, under one roof, he finds home, and you find home too. It's not about what piece is broken but what is still there. It's not about love or who or how to love.

Sometimes, love is not just a kiss, sex and a caress. Love is sometimes about waking up late morning, hair all messy, bodies tangled with the sheets and a burst of lazy laughter as you realise your lipstick is all over his face. Love is respect, honesty, trust, happiness, fun, and him, holding you near as he watches you cry over something small. Love is about being imperfect, flawed, broken and having the one you care for sit down, love you a little extra that day and watch as you fix yourself with his hand holding yours.

Tags:

@ghostslillady @queen-ilmaree @jnsmeyv @madamemelancholysstuff @kit-kats06 @ghostslittlegf @trulyunknownone @rogerfxckingtaylor @cripitique @sinners-sins

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adventuringblind · 8 months

Text

Keep me Close

Past Jules Bianchi x reader, platonic Charles Leclerc x Reader

Genre: angst

Request: yepyep finally got me some angst things to write

Summary: Charles's new girlfriend can't understand why he's so attached to the reader

Warnings: talks of death, name calling, a table gets flipped

Notes: I definitely didn't cry writing this at one point. Also, no hate to Alex!! I know hardly anything about her, but I know her and Charles are currently together, and it fits the Timeline, so please bear with me.

Masterlist

Your love for Jules was something you find in fairy tales. It was beautiful, and both of you felt connected on a level deeper than anything imaginable.

It started when you were both merely kids. You were six, and he was eight. The two of you had met at the wedding of a mutual friend. Dressed in nice clothing, he'd marched right up to you and claimed to be a knight looking for a princess.

You were inseparable after that. It was like you'd found your soulmate.

When you turned eighteen, Jules had immediately proposed. And when you countered by asking if you were both too young, he said, 'Why waste time when I know I'll love you forever?'"

You'd gotten close with Leclerc family. Specifically with Charles since Jules was named godfather. He spent a great deal of time with you and Jules.

Then 2014. Everyone was sure Jules was going to get a seat with Ferrari. It would be a crime if he didn't.

You remember kissing him, good luck. The last feeling of his lips on your before getting in the car.

You remember telling him to be safe with the rain; that you love him dearly. He replied with his signature wink and an 'I love you more and I always am.'

Then everything stopped. The world seemed to no longer spin. Time refused to move forward as you willed it to go back.

It couldn't be real. There was no way it had happened. You still thought that as you sat at his bedside faithfully for months. There wasn't a world you wanted to live in if it didn't have Jules.

Charles was similarly devastated. He'd lost someone dear to him. The boy spent all his free time sitting with you in the hospital. Even bringing around food that Pascale had made to keep you alive. Something you didn't want to be at that moment.

The bond you'd formed with Charles during this time is hard to explain. There is nothing romantic. He's family despite the age gap not being that large.

He was, and is still, family. You'd promised to still take care of him despite the loss of Jules, and he promised to do the same in his stead.

The start of the 2024bseason brings on an interesting turn of events. Charles had split with his girlfriend before the new year and is now with his new girlfriend Alex.

You like her. She's very sweet as far as you've been told. But there is something there that makes you worry. You just blame the fact that you want the best for Charles.

The first time you met her was at a family dinner. Charles brought Alex with him to introduce her to everyone.

You were actually the first person he introduced her to. You felt honored, but there was something behind her eyes that you couldn't quite pinpoint. But you kept it to yourself and made friendly conversation.

The next time you saw her was when she dropped by the Leclerc family home unannounced. The position she caught you in wasn't a bad one, but it probably didn't look good to her.

Charles had a rough race in Monaco, as per usual, and was laying with his head in your lap while you ran fingers through his hair. It's the same thing Jules had done when Charles was a child after a bad Karting race.

Alex definitely didn't look pleased with you. But she managed to put kn a smile and say hello.

It was awkward. Especially after Charles and her went into another room because you could hear them talking in hushed whispers.

Your fingers find the chain with your wedding ring on it. Your lips press against the cold metal as you hold the ring to your mouth. "I hope I'm doing this right, Jules. It's hard without you here."

The last time you saw Alex was at a birthday party. Your birthday party. Something you don't like having after Jules because he was the one who always made the day special.

Charles is a stubborn man though and decided it was necessary. Partly because this is his way of remembering that you are alive and with them, but it also gives him and excuse to drink and dance.

It wasn't anything massive. Or at least - not a massive as it could have been. There were a good number of people crowded into your Monaco home. The food is good, and the music is better. It definitely felt like a party Jules would have dragged you to in your youth.

It's not long until Charles appears at the door with Alex in tow. He comes to you, and you embrace him as usual. The smile on his face makes everything worth it. despite having to deal with a party for a few hours.

Pierre also finds you and starts up conversation. The three of you fail to notice the fourth becoming increasingly agitated.

A loud crashing sound pulls all of their attention. Alex flipped over the table in her agitation and is now sending chills down your spine with the look on her face.

"Why are you so determined to be some kind of homewrecker! Why can't you just stop being a creep to Charles and let us live in peace!" She screams. It hits your mind like a shadow. The world fades away, and your thoughts are filled with the doubts you have daily.

Tears fill your eyes, and your body goes rigid. "I'm Charles' godmother. Y/N Bianchi. I am no homewrecker." You choke.

Charles and Pierre take a protective step in front of you. "Get out!" Charles' voice drips with venom. Alex looks stunned. She doesn't move even as Charles shouts at her. "Nobody gets to speak like that to my family! Get out!"

Then she runs. Avoiding the gazes of disapproval.

Charles spins around and places his hands on your shoulders. His eyes scanning your face to assess the damage.

"I'm so sorry that happened. You're amazing. Always have been. And anyone who says differently is a fucking asshole."

Even through the tears, she smiles. Jules couldn't have left her in better hands.

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grandprixwinnerlandonorris · 7 months

Text

Silver Springs | Lando Norris⁴

Pairings: Lando Norris x ex!fem!reader

Requested: yes

Warnings: angsty with a hopeful ending

A/N: This is my first request ever and I hope I managed to fulfill the expectations. I took a little liberty and played with the style and format and just listening and studying the song made me want to write it this way. I'm sorry if this isn't what anon had in mind when requesting this so with that make sure to leave as much details as possible when requesting things if you want something specific. Feedback on this would be very much appreciated. 🥺🧡

You’ve found yourself thinking about Lando more regularly as of late. It has been ten months since your break up and you don’t remember feeling like this at the time. You guess you were in a state of denial, trying to convince yourself that the relationship was worth saving despite knowing that it wasn’t.

Of course, in the beginning everything was like a fairy tale. At first it was so wonderful that every ounce of you was convinced that it couldn't possibly get any better. And then, slowly, inevitably, the house of cards collapsed. Maybe that should've been your first clue, but every time you would stick your rose colored glasses further up your nose and focus harder on all those positive aspects of the relationship.

Time spent with Lando was the best time of your life. He always gave you the best he could offer. Taking you out on dates, vacations, accompanying him to races across the world... He truly gave you that only-girl-in-the-world experience. He was always there, present. Until he wasn't.

You knew what you were getting yourself into when you started dating Lando Norris. But there was no way you could've prepared yourself for how it would all end up.

He was a Formula One driver and his life was always going to be busy. The paparazzi, the rumors, the constant pressure of being in the public eye. It all took a toll on your relationship.

But what you didn't anticipate was how much time he would start spending away from you. It started off with a few missed calls and texts, but soon he was gone for days at a time without a word.

You tried to be understanding, knowing how demanding his job was, but it was hard not to feel neglected and unimportant. You tried to talk to him about it, but he always seemed to have an excuse or an apology that would temporarily ease your worry.

As the months went on, you began to realize that the relationship was becoming more and more one-sided. You were always the one making compromises, always the one putting in the effort to make things work.

One night, as Lando was getting ready to leave for yet another race, you finally confronted him about it. You told him how you felt and how you needed more from him. But instead of trying to work things out, he simply brushed you off and left without a second thought.

For the first time, you began to wonder if maybe it was time to let go. Maybe it was time to walk away from a relationship that was causing you more pain than happiness.

It wasn't an easy call. You were still in love with him and a part of you wanted to believed that he loved you too. But you couldn't keep living like that when you knew you deserved more. So, after a lot of tears and internal conflict, you made the decision to end things with him.

He took it calmly. “Maybe it’s for the best. We’re at different stages in life-”

But you weren’t interested in reasoning. You were done.

Few days later as you sat alone in your room thinking about him, you couldn't help but wonder if it could all be different. Maybe if you had just tried harder, fought for the relationship a little more, things could've ended up differently. Maybe you could've been the one he came home to every night, instead of just another girl in his life. But relationships were a two way street and you couldn’t do it just on your own.

Months went by and slowly but surely, you started to heal. You threw yourself into work and hobbies, spending time with friends and family. You had to reduce your social media and tv time, fearing you’d accidentally see something about him, or maybe even search up his name on your own that would ruin all the progress you just made. Mutual friends had to be cut off too. Everything that even had a slightest relation to him had to be eliminated from your life so you wouldn't crumble back into old habits.

Finally, you were ready to try dating again. It felt strange to be putting yourself out there again, going out on dates here and there. And although nothing ever really clicked, it was working to distract and make you forget. Up until now.

He just crept into your thoughts on a random Tuesday. You scoffed, shaking them away. Then little (in)significant things started to happen. Like seeing number 4 everywhere in various combinations. You would turn on the radio and first thing you’d hear would be the song you two proclaimed to be yours one drunk night in a bar.

“Are you kidding me?!” you spat, turning the radio off. It wasn’t even a love song.

Dreams began next and they were so life-like that it was almost as if you had gone back in time. They would be so vivid, reminding you of his touch and sound of his voice. In one of them, you would be back together and he would be holding you in his arms. You’d feel safe and loved, just like you used to. One of those nights you woke up to the sound of his laughter echoing in your ears, but when you turned over it was just you and the void of the bedside he used to fill. Your eyes shifted to a digital clock on the nightstand. In hauntingly bold red it read 04:44 am.

And you really should’ve known better than to turn the tv on on weekends. Not every weekend, you reminded yourself, but really, what were the odds that you would catch him racing that Sunday?

You tried your best to ignore it all. Tried to push Lando back to the farthest corners of your mind. But every time you tried, he came back stronger, like a boomerang you couldn't escape from. It was like he was haunting you, his memory a ghost that refused to be exorcised.

It was frustrating. It was maddening. You didn't want to think about him anymore. You didn't want to care. You didn't want to love him.

When it all became too much, you decided to go for a walk to clear your head. You grabbed your coat and headed out the door, the cold afternoon air hitting you as you stepped outside. As you walked down the street, you realized that you were headed in the direction of the park where you and Lando used to go on picnics and take walks together. There was no point in avoiding going there now. Every part of the town was marked with the two of you in one way or the other.

As you walked through the park, you couldn't help but feel a sense of nostalgia wash over you. You remembered how happy you used to be with Lando by your side, how the two of you laughed and talked for hours on end. You wondered if he ever thought about those moments, if he ever missed you. If he ever thought about you just in general. Your heart felt heavy as you thought about how things could have been different if only he had been willing to put in more effort into your relationship.

A sudden movement caught your eye and you turned to see a man walking towards you, his eyes locked onto yours. Your heart leaped out of your chest and you found yourself frozen in place. But the man who passed you wasn’t him. He might’ve had his hair or his eyes, but it wasn’t him. You closed your eyes and sighed a sigh of relief.

I’m starting to see things now, you thought to yourself, shaking the image away. You weren’t sure if you were ready for that type of encounter just yet anyway.

After a few minutes, you continued on your way and eventually found yourself in front of a cozy cafe. You looked up at the simple yet inviting storefront and decided this was as good a place as any to take a break. You opened the door and stepped inside, the warm atmosphere immediately embracing you like an old friend.

The cafe was quite busy with customers, but despite the crowd it still had an intimate feel to it. The smell of fresh coffee accompanied by the sound of jazz music created a relaxed atmosphere that made you forget all about your worries for a while. You walked up to the counter and ordered a cup of your favorite coffee blend before sitting down at one of the tables in the far corner.

He had thought about you a lot that summer. It wasn't just the memory of you that lingered in his mind; it was the way you made him feel. He missed the way your hand fit perfectly in his, and the sound of your laughter that could light up a room. He missed the long conversations you used to have over the phone when he was away, and the way your eyes sparkled when you talked about something you were passionate about.

He had missed you, more than he was willing to admit to himself. He had tried to ignore his feelings, to push them down and pretend that he was perfectly okay without you. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't shake the memories of your time together.

Sometimes the air would smell like your hair, the wind would caress his cheeks like you used to. He remembered the picnics in the park, the late night conversations, the lazy Sunday mornings spent cuddled up in bed on his weekends off before he would have to pack for another race week. He remembered how happy he used to be with you by his side, and he cursed himself for not realizing how much he needed you until it was too late.

Being without you on tracks was the worst. He didn’t know it would be like that when he had you calling before and after every session, giving him a false sense of security. He was racing for himself, building his career, but he couldn't focus on anything else. The roar of the engines and the adrenaline rush of it all losing their appeal without you there to share it with him. He had to force himself to keep going, to keep racing, but every achievement felt hollow without you to celebrate with him.

But he never reached out to you. He never tried to make things right, even when he knew he was wrong. He was too prideful, too scared of rejection, too afraid of admitting that he had made a mistake. So he stayed away, hoping that time and distance would heal the wounds.

It was late autumn now and after yet another decent weekend, he decided to fly home for his week off and recharge. Maybe time spent with family and friends would help and stop you from creeping in his thoughts.

As he settled into his seat on the plane, he couldn't help but feel a sense of emptiness. His career progressed drastically since your split, but what did it matter? He only had himself to share his success with.

The flight was uneventful, and before he knew it, he was back in his hometown. He stepped off the plane and was greeted by the familiar faces of his family. Their hugs and laughter made him realize he was making yet another mistake. He missed you more than ever, and being home without you will only make it worse.

Lando tried to keep busy by spending time with his loved ones and focusing on his training. But it was like trying to hold back the tide with a broom, he couldn't escape the memories of you. The sound of your voice, the touch of your hand, the warmth of your embrace. It was all too vivid in his mind, haunting him day and night.

When he couldn’t take it anymore, he drove out in his car, desperate to find a way to move on. He had no destination in mind, and maybe driving to clear his head wasn’t ideal, but it was the only other thing he loved that he had left. And it was like universe was having a laugh at him, when he turned on the radio it was your song that was playing. He thought of changing the station, but his fingers lingered too long in the air over the button that he ended up listening to the whole thing.

As the last notes of the song faded away, Lando let out a heavy sigh and pulled over to the side of the road. He found himself parked in front of a cozy cafe that he had never noticed before. It looked warm and inviting, the smell of coffee wafting out to greet him. He found himself drawn to it, like a moth to a flame.

Without much thought, he opened the door and stepped inside. The sound of jazz music greeted him, and he couldn't help but feel a sense of calm wash over him as he took in the warm atmosphere. He walked up to the counter and ordered a cup of coffee before finding a seat at one of the tables.

Looking around, he spotted you purely accidentally, sipping coffee and reading a book. His heart skipped a beat as he watched you sit alone in the far corner. You looked beautiful, just as he remembered, with your hair falling in loose waves around your face. He couldn't believe it was you. The one person he had been thinking about for months was sitting just a few tables away from him.

He couldn't take his eyes off you, his heart racing with emotions he thought he had buried deep within. He tried to catch your eye, but you didn't look up from the book. He felt his heart sink as he realized that you didn't even know he was there.

Lando hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to do next. Part of him wanted to approach you and try to start a conversation, while the other part of him couldn't bear the thought of seeing you again after all this time. He had hurt you deeply, and he wasn't sure if he was ready to face the consequences of his actions.

But as he sat there, lost in thought, he suddenly realized that he couldn't just sit idly by and watch you from a distance. He had to do something, even if it meant facing his fears head-on. It was now or never.

He got up from his seat and slowly walked over to your table, his heart beating faster with every step. You finally looked up from your book as he approached, your eyes widening in surprise as you saw who was standing in front of you.

“What are you doing here?” you blurted out before you could stop yourself. Quickly you made a mental check on what day it was. Early Friday evening.

Lando sighed, nerves getting the best of him as he stood before you. “I’m… I came home for my week off.” he said, his voice sounding small and unsure.

“You have a week off,” you weren’t sure if you were asking him, accusing him, laughing at your own stupidity or a secret fourth thing.

He shifted awkwardly on his feet, his eyes unable to meet yours. “You’re saying it like it’s a crime,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I just didn’t expect to see you here on a weekend.” you defended, realizing you were setting yourself for a trap. Not every weekend.

“Were you hoping I was out of the country?” he asked, his tone laced with sarcasm. He knew he was being defensive, but he couldn't help it. Being around you made him feel vulnerable, exposed.

Lando's question hung heavily in the air, his eyes still fixed on you. You felt a pang of guilt, knowing full well that you had been hoping to avoid him for a little while longer. But now that he was standing in front of you, you couldn't deny the pull you still felt towards him.

"I don't know what I was hoping for," you admitted, your eyes finally meeting his. "I just know I didn't expect to see you here."

"Neither did I," he said softly, taking a step closer to you. "But now that I am, can we talk?"

You looked at him for a moment, taking in the sight of him. He looked good, but different somehow. He seemed more vulnerable, more open than you remembered. It made your heart ache for him, but you tried to push the feeling away.

"Okay," you said, nodding your head. "Let's talk."

Lando let out a sigh of relief, his tense shoulders relaxing as he took a seat opposite of you.

“So, how have you been?” he asked, shuffling his feet slightly.

“I’ve been okay,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. “Just trying to keep busy.”

There was a moment of awkward silence between you as you both tried to gather your thoughts. You couldn't help but notice how much he had changed since the last time you saw him. His hair was shorter, and he looked like he had put on some muscle. But it was his eyes that caught your attention the most. They looked tired and distant, like he had been carrying a heavy burden for a long time.

“How are-How are things with you?” you choked out.

Lando let out a small laugh, but it sounded hollow to your ears. "Things have been good, I guess," he said, his eyes flickering towards yours for a moment before darting away. "Work has been keeping me busy."

You nodded, not sure what to say. You couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy at the thought of him thriving without you. It didn't seem fair that he could move on so easily while you were still struggling in a way.

"I'm sorry," he said suddenly, his voice breaking the silence. "For everything. For how I treated you, for how I acted. I was a fool, and I should have never let you go."

“It’s okay-”

“It’s not.” he cut you off harshly. “I should’ve been there. I should’ve set my priorities straight.”

“But you did.” you smiled to hide the pain as you said that, tears stinging the corners of your eyes.

“I was wrong. I was so wrong.” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Lando could see the confusion and hurt written all over your face, and he knew that he had a lot to answer for. He took a deep breath, trying to gather his thoughts before he spoke again.

“I know I hurt you, and I'm sorry.” he said. “I should have fought for you, instead of letting my pride get in the way. I missed you more than I could ever say, and being away from you only made me realize how much I need you in my life.”

You looked at him skeptically, unsure if you could believe him after all the pain he had caused you. But as you looked into his eyes, you could see the sincerity and regret that shone through.

“I don't know if you're ready to forgive me, and I don't expect you to right away,” he continued. “But I had to come and tell you how I feel and to try to make things right. If you’ll let me.”

He looked down as he finished his speech. You sat a few moments in silence, letting it all sink in before leaning over and reaching for his hand.

As soon as your fingers interlocked with his, you felt a jolt of electricity run through your body. It had been so long since you had touched him, and it felt like coming home.

“Lando,” you called, wanting him to look at you. You only continued when he did. “I already forgave you. But as for the rest… I will need some time.” you said softly, not wanting to give him false hope. “But I appreciate your apology.”

"I understand," he said, squeezing your hand gently. "I'll give you all the time you need. Just know that I'm here whenever you're ready."

You nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. It wasn't a complete resolution, but it was a start. You sat in silence for a few more minutes, just holding each other's hands, before you finally pulled away.

"I should get going," you said, grabbing your book and standing up.

“Let me drive you home.” Lando said, standing up as well.

You hesitated for a moment, unsure if you were ready to spend more time alone with him. But as you looked into his earnest and apologetic gaze, you couldn't help but nod in agreement.

"Okay," you said, a small smile creeping onto your face. "Let's go."

Lando walked you to his car, opening the door for you and then walking around to the driver's side. As he started the engine, you couldn't help but feel a sense of nostalgia wash over you. This was the same car he had driven you around in when you were together, and it felt strange to be sitting in it again.

The ride was mostly silent, with both of you lost in your own thoughts. But as you pulled up in front of your apartment building, Lando turned to you with a serious expression on his face.

"I know I have a lot to make up for," he said, his voice low and intense. “But I promise you, I'll do whatever it takes to prove to you that I'm serious about this. I want us to be together again, if you'll have me."

You took a deep breath, feeling a mixture of emotions swirling inside you. It was true that you still had feelings for Lando, but you weren't sure if it was enough to give him another chance. You needed time to think, to process everything that had happened between you two.

"I appreciate your sincerity, Lando," you said finally, meeting his gaze. "But I need some time alone to figure things out. Can you give me that?"

"Of course," he said, nodding his head. "I'll respect your wishes. Just let me know if you need anything, okay?"

You nodded, feeling a sense of relief and gratitude towards him. Despite everything that had happened between you two, he still cared about your well-being. It was a comforting thought, and it made you realize that maybe, just maybe, there was hope for the two of you.

"Thank you, Lando," you said, giving him a small smile. "I'll talk to you soon."

With that, you got out of the car and walked towards your building, feeling a strange mixture of emotions. Part of you was relieved to have some space to think, while another part of you was still hopeful for a future with Lando.

As you walked up the stairs to your apartment, you couldn't help but wonder what the future held. Would you be able to start anew, or would you remain apart forever? Only time would tell, but for now, all you could do was take things one day at a time.

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celluloidbroomcloset · 4 months

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Going off of this post, which has so many good points: I think two other things are also happening with Stede, in addition to everything else, and they have to do with his understanding of what love is.

We know that Stede's fairly intellectual and often retreats into fantasies. But he also just reads a lot, and most of his experience and understanding of love would likely be filtered through what he has read. While, yes, there was gay porn in the 18th century, and Stede would likely know about Greek attitudes to sex between men, sodomy itself was illegal and very likely, as @teeny-tiny-revenge points out, never treated as part of love or romance, but as an act (we see this in Calico Jack’s discussion of buggery). So Stede is very unlikely to associate the act of gay sex as anything to do with love.

But Stede does know about the concept of love as transcendent and courtly. We know he reads Shakespeare and fairy tales; he’s likely to read Donne, Milton, and Pope, Greek epics, and medieval romances. The point being that love, in his worldview, would be something high and passionate, something almost not of this world, and even possibly disconnected from sex entirely—which would, for him, relate to his lack of sexual desire for his wife or for women generally. I think Stede's desire to marry for love is not really about sexual desire at all, because he's not quite aware that he can feel sexual desire for men and he knows he doesn't feel it for women. It's about finding the more transcendent, courtly love that he reads about.

When he meets Ed, Stede does develop feelings. They have an immediate kinship. But Stede has also never had a close friend. What he’s experiencing with Ed, initially, is not the high-flown emotions he’d associate with literary depictions of romantic love, but something simpler—he and Ed are friends, they like being around each other, they care for each other. When Ed leaves, Stede is jealous and devastated, and he's overjoyed when Ed comes back. But none of those feelings click as romantic love until Mary tells him what love really feels like.

The other element are the two times Stede and Ed kiss, or nearly do—first on the deck in the moonlight, and then on the beach. The kiss on deck is something that doesn’t actually happen, just nearly does, and we have no scene afterwards with either of them to further parse out their emotions. Certainly Ed and Stede see it as a memorable moment in their relationship later, after both are aware of their love for each other, but at the time it's a step not taken. This seems to be more of a “love that dare not speak its name” moment, that neither of them are yet willing or able to put a label on. However it’s of note that when Stede remembers it, he doesn’t remember the near kiss—he remembers putting the silk in Ed’s pocket. And that act is one that he would understand as deeply intimate, a chaste physical touch (and exchanged of a beloved object) that could be associated with courtly love.

The kiss on the beach is the start of Stede’s awakening to his sexuality. But again, there is a small move there between friendship and romantic love, and the kiss is not expressive of intense passions. What both Ed and Stede are able to articulate is simple happiness. One could even argue that neither of them are fully aware of the depth of their romantic and sexual feelings at that point—Ed because he’s felt sexual attraction but never really paired that with love, Stede because he’s never felt either.

So I don't think that Stede is fully aware of his sexuality as sexuality, not until Mary puts it into clearer terms for him—his love for Ed may be friendship, it may be more chaste, transcendent love, but he's not yet tied those feelings to the reality that he can desire Ed.

#ofmd #our flag means death #stede bonnet #edward teach #ed teach #hope this makes sense #i know what i'm trying to say #but articulating it is a bit difficult #ofmd meta #gentlebeard #blackbonnet #gif #long post #queer

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violetrainbow412-blog · 6 months

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Day 30: scary movies

Masterlist flufftober 🎀

The translations of the French sentences are at the end and I give special thanks to @cumulo-stratus for helping me check that they were fine. I hope you like it!

“We're here,” Spencer announced, although that was obvious, when he parked the convertible car that Rossi had very kindly offered to lend to you.

Now that Halloween was so close, the doctor had invited the entire team to the drive-in theater for the broadcast in its original language of Eyes Without a Face, a 1960 French film, but everyone had found an excuse not to attend. Most of them refused due to their ignorance of the language and Emily, who was the only one who spoke it as fluently as Spencer, already had plans that night.

“I can go with you” you had said kindly. In other circumstances you might not have accepted, but now it made you feel guilty leaving your friend alone. In addition, the plans with him were always calm and, to a certain extent, educational "But I warn you that all I know how to say in French is Bonjour”

Your friend was happy with your response and he asked you not to worry, telling you that all you had to do was take it to him so he could translate the words for you. So Rossi told you that he would collaborate on one of his cars and Spencer almost died when he saw it, not because he was a big fan but because he was worried about how much money he would have to pay if he made the slightest scratch on it.

“There are more people than I imagined,” you murmured, nodding toward the rest of the parking lot. The majority were couples, as expected, and a few older adults.

“It was a very popular story during that time, despite the censorship it involved. We once had a similar case in… Well, I'll remind you when we finish watching it. I don't want to ruin anything for you," he murmured, smiling.

That night he had chosen an outfit that was quite common to see him in at the office: brown cardigan, an argyle vest, formal shirt, and tie. Everything was fine with that, what was really driving you crazy lately was the hair. Spencer styled his hair in a certain way that… you couldn't explain it, he just made you think of Prince Charming in fairy tales.

And the fact that you started to see it that way didn't help a damsel like you at all.

“It's okay if you can't translate the entire film. Just telling me a couple of lines is enough, I will be guided by what I see”

“No, that's not a problem. I can do it"

Of course you knew he could do it, it was Doctor fucking Reid. You were just worried that you would end up more focused on his whispering lips than on the screen in front of you.

Luckily the movie started and you managed to maintain the necessary composure. Luckily your brain was able to pay attention to what you saw, what you heard, and what Spencer was murmuring to you. At first you may have only agreed to accompany him out of kindness, but as the story progressed you realized that it was actually good. Little by little you were remembering a case that, as he had said, you had investigated, but that should probably be a talk for after finishing the movie.

You had to admit that something was captivating about the French language, because even if you didn't understand a thing they said, it was nice to hear it.

Calme-toi, ma chérie.

Faites-lui confiance.

One of the characters murmured and a second later you heard Spencer with the respective translation.

“Calm down, my dear. Trust in him”

"Repeat that"

“Calm down, my dear. Trust in him?”

“No,” you murmured, seeing him frown as if he didn’t understand your request. “Repeat what he said, in French.”

The idea had come from God knows where and you had only mentioned it in the heat of the moment, otherwise you would never have asked him. It was just that the words had sounded so exquisite that you wondered if the soft voice of the man next to you would replicate them in the same way.

Spencer wanted to ask you why you wanted that, but he was afraid of ruining his only chance to impress you with his skills, so he just turned enough so you could see him better and mentally visualize the words he needed.

When he leaned a little towards you to have more privacy you felt his breath hit your neck and adding to the soft aroma of his cologne that reached your nose you felt slightly dizzy.

If a single action had been enough to make your entire body shake, it probably would have been hearing Spencer Reid whispering French in your ear.

“Calme-toi, ma chérie. Faites-lui confiance”

“Once again,” you laughed, thankful that the low lighting didn’t allow you to see a blush on your cheeks.

"Why?" he said amused, thinking that perhaps it was prudent to inquire about your request.

“I don't know, when you talk it you sound so…” so sexy “nice. Like feeling velvet between your fingers”

Spencer was definitely flattered by you, you could tell by the way he chuckled and his body flinched slightly.

“I don't sound that good because I haven't practiced French for a long time, but my mom wants to go to Paris one day so if we go together, I'll be able to do it. I learned it a few years ago, it is a somewhat difficult language”

“Can you say anything else?” you asked excitedly, as you scooted a little further against him to the point where your knee brushed his and your faces were just a short distance away “I mean, of course you can, but could you do it?”

“Huh, what do you want me to tell you?”

“Whatever,” you smiled sweetly. You weren't even paying attention to the movie anymore, which was playing in the background, but you only had eyes for him and his pretty face.

Spencer's face. Your co-worker.

Despite the inappropriate course that your thoughts had taken, you kept watching him while he thought for a few seconds what he was going to say to satisfy your curiosity. A mischievous smile crossed his face as he tilted his head slightly and you swore it was almost as if he wanted to maneuver his lips to yours.

“Je pense que tu es vraiment belle”

The phrase was just a caress, a feather sliding across your ears that managed to stop your breathing and accelerate your heart rate. Maybe French was called the language of love for a reason.

"What does it mean?" you asked in barely a whisper.

But Spencer didn't respond, he just stared at you and for a second you thought his attention had been diverted to your parted lips.

“Keep watching the movie or you'll miss the best part.”

“Spencer, what does it mean?”

“There he is saying that she can be admitted tomorrow morning.”

“Spencer,” you said sternly. Even with the tone of your voice, he did not look to your side, pretending to be extremely interested in the movie playing, “What did you tell me?”

“You only wanted to hear me speak in French, you never asked for a translation”

“Reid!” You complained, extending your hand to his arm to get his attention and force him to look at you. “I swear if you offended me…”

“Je ne t'offenserais jamais”

“Stop it,” you threatened him, pointing a finger at him and frowning.

“Si je pouvais, j'effacerais ce visage en colère avec un baiser”

You responded to that with an exasperated sigh and suddenly a scream that you didn't expect on the screen startled you greatly, causing you to instinctively jump into his arms.

It was an absolute, cheap cliché, but that didn't make it any less romantic.

"You see? Pay attention” was all he said, with a tone that showed how much fun he seemed to be having.

You readjusted yourself in your seat without saying anything and obeyed his words, looking at the strange black-and-white scene. Out of the corner of your eye you watched Spencer lick his lips before he started shouting explanations about the story again which you listened to carefully, trying not to think too much about what the two sentences he had told you meant but which would keep you curious for the rest of the night.

Suddenly you felt him stir next to you and raise both arms, as if he wanted to stretch his back, while a yawn left his lips. What really caught your attention was feeling that one of his limbs, the one that was close to you, when getting off was placed on the edge of the seat behind your back and not on his lap as it should be.

“Tell me you didn’t do that.”

"Do what?" he asked, but from the stutter in his voice you knew he knew well what you meant.

“That's the most common tactic on earth,” you muttered between laughs. Spencer lowered his head as if he were embarrassed and ready to take his arm away from you, but you raised your hand until you took his and slid a little so that you were leaning against his body. “But I'll let it go just because you're cute.”

Cute. The word resonated in Spencer's mind and warmed his cheeks, while he felt how you settled your head better on his chest and began to caress the back of his hand with your thumb. You were so soft and warm he felt like he was going to die.

“Where is my star translator?” he heard you say and that was enough to snap him out of his trance.

You stayed in that position for the rest of the show while he whispered in your ear and you listened to the soft beat of his heart, feeling that, at least for one night, the world belonged only to the two of you.

Translation

"I think you are really beautiful" (Je pense que tu es vraiment belle)

"I would never offend you" (Je ne t'offenserais jamais)

“If I could, I would erase this angry face with a kiss” (Si je pouvais, j'effacerais ce visage en colère avec un baiser)

taglist: @navs-bhat @reidwritings @tricia-shifting14 @spencerslove @vivian-555 @r-3dlips @rhiannonhippiegirl @taygrls @simp4f1 @sdddoobydoobydoo @taintedstranger @missabsey

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #dr spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid x you #flufftober 2023 #prompt list #writing challenge #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid drabble

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paimonial-rage · 6 months

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obvious - neuvillette

ship: neuvillette x reader synopsis: he can't understand how you always see through him. is he that easy to read? notes: 3k words

Neuvillette didn’t know when he realized it. You must’ve been visiting him for at least a year at that point. Perhaps it was because it was such a small thing, something that most people wouldn’t even raise a brow at. Or maybe it was because he wasn’t in tune with it like most humans were that it took something rather large for it to stand out. Whatever it was, the moment he noticed it, he couldn’t stop noticing every single time after.

He still remembered the day like it was yesterday. Though he often enjoyed the rain, the weather that time around had more of a somber note. It was the day after he apologized to Miss Navia, genuinely apologized to her. All evening it felt as if his stomach was thrown about like the waves of the sea, and when daybreak finally came, he wasn’t much better. He wanted nothing more than to sit out on his balcony in the rain, but duty called and it was to Palais Mermonia he went.

Despite the storm raging outside, work went as normal. New cases were placed on his desk and visits from the Melusines were received. You arrived on time just as you regularly did in the late morning on the third day of the work week. You greeted him before entering and in your hands was a package marked with that familiar Komaniya Express logo. He remembered finding it impressive how there seemed to be no proof of the storm from the dryness of your skin.

He greeted you as he normally did, to which you returned according to custom. But even he could see the nearly imperceptible confusion within your eyes when you took the sight of him in. It made him self-conscious, as if perhaps his clothing were askew. Surely someone would’ve pointed it out before if it were that noticeable. But when concern was reflected in your eyes after, he wasn’t sure what to think.

“Here you go, Monsieur Neuvillette. This particular batch of bottled water is from Mondstadt’s Springvale. It’s from, well, a spring where it’s rumored that a fairy lives. Included is the first volume of the book series, Heart of Clear Springs, which recounts the tale of the fairy and the promise she made with a young boy. Now I don’t know too much about Fontanian opera, but I think this one makes for an interesting story!”

“Is that so?” He asked. “Then I will have to read it for myself.”

You nodded as you first handed him the package, then a clipboard for signature.

“Yes, and tell me what you think. If you’d like me to procure the rest of the series for you, please put an order in with the Komaniya Express.”

“I will be sure to do that,” he agreed as he handed back the clipboard back to you. “Do you perhaps have some time today?”

It became a normal question of his after you curiously asked one time if he could tell the difference between the water you brought him. After that, it became a custom to sample different bottles with him whenever you had the time. It was enjoyable for him to share his hobby with someone else, even if your taste wasn’t as discerning as his.

But when you turned him down with an apologetic smile, he couldn’t help but notice the slight twinge in his chest. Apparently, it was a busy time for the company, so you had a heavy load that day. But even though you were in a hurry, you paused at the door to his office before leaving, that look he noticed earlier back in your eyes.

“I don’t know what happened, but try not to be too hard on yourself, Monsieur Neuvillette. It’s foolish to expect perfection, even from long-lived species like us. So cheer up, okay?”

And with a kind smile, you then bid him adieu.

After you left, confusion sat within him. He had been told more than once that he was a difficult person to read, but you picked up on his mood the moment you entered his office. At first, he thought it could have been because of the Steambird. The case of the previous day stole its front page. But that couldn’t have been it. You told him once you only read the paper in the evening due to starting the work day so early. So what cued you in?

But the more he thought about it, the more he realized that you had always been like that, pointing out his moods. How quick you were to take one look at him and deem the day as a “good one.” Or those times after difficult conversations with Furina you’d kindly reassured him that a relaxing rainy day would come soon. A few times you even brought water from rarer places as a “pick-me-up” from the week before.

Was he that obvious?

It made him wonder how long you had been picking up on his moods. He assumed you were only attempting to make conversation, but remembering back, you were right all those times. The days that you mentioned were good, he found himself able to sleep easily. And on the days you’d try to reassure him, there the rain would come early, but not the enjoyable kind.

You didn’t change following that key visit. In fact, he noticed even more things about you. The days you were able to stay for a while, you did not treat him as if he were a celebrity. You could talk about recent events with ease. You’d ask him questions about recent cases and shows at the Opera Epiclese. You’d even tease him about his interest in the waters of Teyvat. With you, he felt normal, like he was any other person.

Perhaps you stood out the most to him that day a few days after Lady Furina renounced her deityhood and left the Palais Mermonia. She left so quietly it was as if it was never her home for the past 500 years. Words could not describe the emptiness her void left him. All the thoughts of that day swirled within his mind like an unending vortex. Guilt, confusion, pain, regret—nothing could free him from the storm that was his mind.

The day you arrived wasn’t one of your normal. It was the weekend nearing the time he ended for the day. And you had nothing in your hands, not a box nor glass bottle. One look of your face told him you already knew what happened. It didn’t surprise him. It was the headlines of the Steambird for the past few days, after all. You also weren’t a stranger to the more stressful times of the previous few weeks, doing your best to distract him with lighthearted chatter whenever you came by for delivery.

This time, you didn’t smile, nor did you point out his mood. You didn’t distract him with strange happenings on your journeys, nor bring up the news. Instead, with solemn eyes, you apologized for surprising him with such a sudden visit. You said you heard about everything that happened and you… were worried about him. Then you asked something no one else had since, well, everything.

“How are you?”

There were many ways he could’ve answered that question. He could mention the emptiness he felt when passing that vacant apartment at the top of Palais Mermonia every evening. He could chat about how it bothered him how the Melusines seemed to move on too quickly from Lady Furina’s absence. He could even talk about the guilt he still felt regarding that no doubt traumatizing trial he forcibly put her through. But he said none of those things. Instead, he answered truthfully.

“I don’t know.”

And that was the truth, wasn’t it? By all means, he should have been feeling relief. The people of Fontaine were not dissolved in water, nor was Lady Furina left weeping upon her throne alone. He received the power that was rightfully his and became a true dragon once more. It was the perfect outcome, was it not? But that was anything but he felt.

“If you want, you can tell me about it,” you said. At his hesitation, you continued, “Sometimes talking about things with someone else can help you untangle everything you’re feeling inside.”

Were you right? He wasn’t sure. There weren’t many people he found himself opening up to. Such was rather hard as the Iudex. His words were as solid as law. It didn’t help either that he was put on a pedestal by Melusines and humans alike. They could never imagine someone like him could be privy to human emotions like themselves. But you weren’t a Fontanian, were you? And never did you treat him like a god. You saw him as he was, a person. But…

“You don’t need to if you don’t want to,” you followed up. “I do understand that not everything can be said.”

But he shook his head.

“There are so many things to be said that words are failing me.” He let out a shuddering sigh. “I’m afraid nothing can rightfully describe what I feel about the events that have occurred.”

You nodded.

“I can see that,” you replied, seeing truth within his eyes.

And with that, silence unfolded between you both. Though Neuvillette couldn’t quite pin it as uncomfortable, he couldn’t help but feel a bit of guilt because of it. Here you were on possibly your day off and he couldn’t bring it within himself to be a good host. But lost in thoughts as he was, it caught him off guard when you continued.

“I may be sticking my nose where it doesn’t belong, but I can see in your eyes that horrible wrongs have occurred. And you feel guilty over it.”

He looked away as you managed to hit a bit too on the nose. But your words weren’t sympathetic nor accusatory, simply pointing out the truth.

“If I may, Monsieur Neuvillette, I’m sure you know this, but justice is not meant to be a preventative measure. Justice can only exist when a wrong has occurred because it is the job of justice to make things right.”

You then put your hand upon his.

“You may not be able to change the past, but you are the Iudex, the representation of justice in Fontaine. If anyone can make things right, wouldn’t that be you?”

The part that blamed himself wished to argue with you. That it wasn’t as simple as you made it out to be. That try as he may, there was still a chance he might—

“You won’t fail. Everyone knows the kind of person you are. Even if you may make a mistake or say the wrong thing, they will see the truth and intent behind your words and actions. Believe in yourself more, Monsieur Neuvillette. You are a good person. If you just try, they will understand you.”

Was that the truth? He didn’t quite know himself. There were so many things he wished to say to Lady Furina, but how could he after hurting her like that? Wouldn’t his presence only make her trauma worse? But he couldn’t argue with your words. Your eyes conveyed everything you said to be truth. You whole-heartedly believed it to be.

“I have never understood human emotion. Knowing what to do or say has always troubled me, and I know I have hurt people before,” he began with a troubled expression before smiling at you, “But your words give me a bit of confidence.”

You laughed.

“If I accomplished anything today, I am glad it is at least that. You are a wonderful person, Monsieur Neuvillette, and everyone seems to know that but you. Sometimes I find it sad to see.”

He coughed.

“I’m not sure I understand what you mean.”

That evening, you were not bound by the restraints your job put upon you, so you accepted his invitation to dinner. You asked him about the future plans of Fontaine and the rebuilding efforts. He inquired about the missing package you discovered a few weeks back. And when he finally returned back to his home, for the first time in weeks, he was able to sleep with ease.

It was ever since then that something began to change in him. Though he always enjoyed your company, he found himself inviting you to stay longer during your weekly deliveries. He’d even ask if you’d like to accompany him to showings at the Opera Epliclese. Seeing you once a week simply was not enough any longer. When you’d inevitably leave after each visit, he’d be left with a strange empty feeling in his chest.

It most certainly didn’t help that you’d always laugh when he’d ask you to stay as if you seen through him from the very start. Your beautiful eyes would sparkle and a hint of pink would tint your cheeks. You always seemed to know when his eyes were on you, to which you’d always look away in a terrible attempt to hide the small smile upon your lips. You enjoyed his company as much as he enjoyed yours. But it still wasn’t enough.

He decided to tell Furina about it on a day she invited him to tea. The time they spent together was always a delight, much thanks to your words of encouragement. But this time around, his admittance toward wanting you near threw his companion into a state of confusion. Pressed back against her chair with her cup of freshly spilled tea upon the floor and an incredulous flustered expression upon her face, she looked at him in horror.

“Do… Do you really not know?” She asked, doing her best to keep her voice gentle.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand what you mean. Is it… supposed to mean something?” He asked.

Furina abruptly stood with a start and began to pace within her small living room, cheeks flushed and face in hands. After a few moments, she then stopped and turned to him.

“You’ve spent hours with this person, even inviting them to spend time with you outside of work, because you feel lonely when they’re gone and still you don’t know what it means!?” She groaned.

Ignoring the way she seamlessly transitioned back into her hydro archon persona, he couldn’t help but feel a bit sheepish at her exasperation. She knew very well he did not understand emotions, but was this as big of a deal as she was making it out to be? He really didn’t think this was that important of a matter. Was there anything wrong with wishing to spend more time with you?

“I suppose it can be said that I view them as a good friend,” he began so as to fish for the right answer.

But apparently, it was the wrong one, for she went right back to burying her face in her hands, this time while twisting around as if trying to shake off a bug.

“Just how many operas have you watched? Were you not paying attention to any of them?” She accused pointedly.

She finally stabbed a finger into his chest with frustration blazing in her eyes.

“You are in love, Neuvillette. In. Love.”

Needless to say, he left her home that day with much to think about. If she was right—he didn’t doubt her words—what was he to do next? He enjoyed spending time with you, that was true. He always felt a pang of sadness whenever you left. And if he had to think about it more, he found you, well, stunning. The softness of your smile, the sparkle in your eyes—his heart soared when he was the cause of it.

But he couldn’t exactly say if his feelings for you meant he should act on it. There were many things to consider. You weren’t from Fontaine, and your job had you on the move most of the time. As Iudex, he didn’t have much free time either. But those problems paled in comparison to the main problem at hand.

What were your feelings for him?

Such were the state of his thoughts the next time you arrived and accepted his invitation to stay for a bit. So nervous he was with his newfound feelings that he truly didn’t know much of what he was speaking about. His heart was nearly beating out of his chest, and deep down, he was near positive you were looking right through him. You always could.

But if that were the case, why didn’t you seem surprised? Why did you always accept his invitations? Why did your lips curl into that beautiful smile when your eyes fell upon him? Why did a flush color your cheeks whenever he asked you to stay? Why did you look at him like that, like–

“You’re in love.”

His words spoken aloud only registered in his mind when your eyes blown wide and posture froze tense. He didn’t mean to say it, he didn’t mean to speak, but the damage was already dealt. By the way your mouth hung open, it seemed you were trying to find what to say, but no words came. Eventually, you could do nothing more than to hide your face in what he could only assume to be embarrassment and outrage.

As much guilt as he felt for throwing you into such a state, he also could not deny the sorrow that rose up within his heart. He thought you could possibly… But that was foolish, wasn’t it? He didn’t understand human emotions. He knew that. But when you looked at him like that, how could he not let his hubris rise? In the end, he was mistaken. And that mistake would cost him you. He looked away.

“I apologize–”

“Monsieur Neuvillette…”

And just like that, his attention was brought back to you once more. How could he ignore the sound of his name upon your tongue, especially when you called it so softly? And though your hands still covered your face and your eyes seen between spread fingers still avoided his, he could see that you were not upset, nor were you ashamed. Rather, you were completely and utterly flustered as if all along, he had been–

“Am I that obvious?”

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #neuvillette #neuvillette x reader #my writing

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rushtoprove · 1 year

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our little secret

part two: revenge

pairing: aemond targaryen x f!reader chapter: 2 rating: teen and up word count: 5k+ summary: aemond promised to take you as his wife when the time was right and you had no reason to doubt him. but when news of his engagement to cassandra baratheon is announced, and your name is left ruined by his nightly visits to your chamber, you have no choice but to flee from the shame you have brought upon your family and to run from the man you love. but not all is as it seems chapter summary: three years pass you by and you remain exiled from everyone you once held dear. when news reaches dorne that aemond is to visit the city, you must quickly find a way to seek the revenge you think you deserve. warnings: sexual references and nsfw scenes. period typical misogyny and course language. chapters: 1 / 2 notes: there has got to be an easier way to do taglists oh my lord. there has been such an insane reaction to this fic and i'm on cloud nine. i also got lots of requests on how this was going to play out and i'm very sorry if it's not how you imagined but hopefully you can still enjoy. I will definitely be posting another chapter after this but i THINK that will be it :P

It had been a long three years for you. Overwhelmed by heartbreak and despair, and barely breathing from bitterness and rage, this time had passed in a tidal wave of emotion. You had spent many nights weeping for Aemond Targaryen while crying out for you family and your home. You missed the gentleness of his touch, and the grip he held on to you in your long nights of passion. You craved how low his voice was when he whispered his poetic words, and the laugh he swore he only shared with you. Desperate for the feeling of your mother’s embrace and missing the way your brother would walk you around the grounds every morning, you thought you might die from your depression. You missed it all.

You sent letter upon letter to your family, imploring them to allow you home, and to see reason. You begged them to accept your deepest apologies, but not one was returned. You found yourself alone and abandoned in Dorne, a city you grew up to believe it was nothing more than debauchery and sin wherever you turned. For the first four months of your banishment, you refused to leave your room. You hardly ate the food that was delivered by your handmaiden, and your curtains were never pulled back. The days passed you by, but you did not know, for you were curled up beneath your blankets, praying to wake up from this nightmare. You were lucky, your banishment ended with you being a guest in Sunspear, the castle that home the noble House Martell. You could have been banished to the streets of silk or left to rot in the gutters of the Stormlands, but instead you were homed with the ruling lords of Dorne.

After a year of wondering around in a cloud of misery and despair, something inside you broke. Quickly you found yourself cursing the cruel prince for the way he had led you to believe his lies. How could you have been so foolish to believe a prince would consider taking you as a wife. You allowed him to keep you in a daze, submissive to his needs in a desperate belief that you would have your fairy tale ending. Suddenly you found yourself enraged by the memory of your controlling family who never once seemed to care for your needs. You do not remember a day in your whole life that your father had ever asked how you fair. Nor do you recall your mother ever standing up for you when your father would push you into the sights of old, savage and vulgar men for courting. Your brother was still young enough to be kind when needed but give a few years and he would be sure to follow in his father’s shadow.

Slowly your overwhelming desire to be with those you loved, turned into a desperate need for revenge. It kept you up at night. Your mind conjured up different ways to take the vengeance you so desperately craved but nothing seemed to hit the way you wanted. You knew it was not as serious as to murder, nor was it something you would even be able to stomach. You thought of sending more letter’s, declaring your hatred and resentment for all those who wronged you, but it was not enough. You didn’t know what you would do, but you were sure it would be something magnificent.

It was Prince Maron Martell, that came to you with a solution.

It was he, who ventured to your rooms every day, willing you to leave your darkened chambers, and it was he who succeeded in bringing you out into his father’s court. The way he spoke so freely, and acted so carelessly, brought you nothing but jealousy. You despised that it be so easy for a man to act immoral, to drink and fuck and sleep, and there be no consequence. No banishment. You were shamed for enjoying even the simplest of pleasures.

After one-to-many wine’s you allowed yourself to confess this.

“You are in Dorne little lady. We do not care for that judgement here. Pleasure and satisfaction are natural for the human body. Who are we to stop anyone from reaching true euphoria? If I do not care, and that woman under the arch over there does not care, nor does that boy behind the fountain care, why do you care so much?” You didn’t understand at first. The idea that pleasure was not to be hidden. You had spent so long hiding behind the closed doors of Aemond’s chamber, both trying to hide the sounds that your bodies desperately wished to make. You could not be seen making any advances in the eye of the court, nor could you allow the risk of anyone catching glimpses of small touches even in the darkest of corners. You had spent so long on edge, ashamed and frightened of what would happen if you were ever caught in the prince’s arms. It was immoral for a woman to partake in such activities for her own enjoyment, worst yet an unmarried one.

“I do not get the same freedom you do Maron. Women in this world are born to be caged. I am caged by my father. I shall be caged by my brother. My husband will likely close me up in the smallest cage of all. I shall never know freedom and I was a reckless whore for allowing myself to succumb to such depravity. Look where it got me.” You huffed at his care-free attitude as you swung a deeper gulp from your wine. You were already flushed from the scorching heat of the Dornish sun but sitting beneath it for a picnic with jugs upon jugs of wine was a terrible idea and you thought your face would melt then and there.

“Such harsh words from my favourite little lady. You are much too hard on yourself. Also I have sent many Dornish dresses to your room girl. You need to wear them. Your Westeros dresses are much too thick, I fear you shall pass out any second.”

“I cannot. It would be improper.” You let out a nervous laugh as you thought of the sheer dresses hanging in your cupboard. The way it felt as if you hardly wore anything. The materiel was too light, and you felt more exposed than you ever felt. Even if it did allow the wind to cool your temperature and the air allowed your skin to breathe, you could not think of the scandal it would create if your father found out.

Then one day, you did not care.

You found yourself gliding through the palace in the dresses with such ease you could not understand the trepidation you had to start with. Soon you became a frequent guest at the scandalous parties Prince Maron would hold every full moon and you finally allowed yourself to succumb to the pleasure and freedom that Dorne offered. You concerned yourself less and less for your appearance, your family name and instead you found yourself liberated. You had never felt so light and blissful. Without the watchful eyes of the courtiers and family members, and without the overwhelming need to please Aemond Targaryen, you were released from your misery.

Your awakening had been almost two years of uninterrupted freedom. But one day, it was ruined.

“Your past lover and his prudish family are coming to visit.” The words fell from Prince Maron’s lips so casually you could have almost missed it. But the strawberry you were about to draw to yours was quickly tossed down in shock.

“Pray tell… what do you mean?” Your heart raced as you felt your body still. As if a single move could destroy everything that you had built up. Memory upon memory of your once true love flashed through your mind making your heart ache punishingly hard. For a second you thought you might be experiencing a heart attack.

"The Targaryen's.” His hand quickly shot out and he brought your abandoned fruit to his lips with a smirk. He loved to frustrate you during your friendship, and it irritated you to no ends. With a deep breath and some calming words in your mind, you felt yourself recline in your seat and stare. You would not allow your past to disrupt everything you had built for yourself.

“Why do they come? Kings Landing hates Dorne. The Targaryen’s hate Dorne. Dorne hates Kings Landing. The Martell’s hate Kings Landing.” Maron hissed out in agreement before laughing at your declaration.

“Ah yes, I do hate those fucking Targaryen’s and Kings Landing, and you want to know something? I hate Aemond Targaryen most of all. Have I ever told you that?” You frowned at his confession. He had not mentioned this even after you had spent months weeping in his arms over everything Aemond had put you through. Although it still morning, you found yourself reaching for the wine to continue this conversation.

“I did not know you were acquainted.”

“Not long before you arrived here, our family welcomed Prince Aemond for a week. He was on some diplomatic mission or some fuckery. He was a miserable cunt, and everyone believed him to be arrogant and rude, but my sister Nymeria…” Taking in a deep breath, Marion flattened his hands and looked sadly down to his plate with the familiar distance in his eyes that always flooded him when he mentioned Nymeria. “Nymeria became besotted. In only a week she declared he was the love of her life. Begged us to let her wed him.” It was as if Marion had reached his fingers inside her chest, just to clutch your heart and squeeze it with a formidable force.

“Aemond seems to have that affect.” You looked away, desperately trying to fight the jealousy that coursed through your veins. It should be no surprise that Aemond was courting yet another woman during your time with him. You tried hard not to think about how many more there could have been.

“Yes. My little sister, my sweet little sister, was absolutely infatuated. So much so that she declared it for him. I remember how nervous she was, how hard she paced as she planned what she would say. They walked around the gardens for hours, and everyone thought it must have worked and that Nymeria would come back Princess of Westeros. But the miserable cunt turned her down. Flew away on his dragon and left her heart broken. Just like you, I spent my days bundling her up in my arms trying to soothe her cries. Aemond had told her he could not marry her for he was promised to another and not two months later, the news of his engagement to Cassandra Baratheon was announced.” You flinched at the name while pursing your lips to try and hide the way you were willing yourself not to cry. The thought of Aemond with his wife was already something you battled before sleep every night, you did not need the image during the day.

“Did he…” You don’t know why you asked because you were sure the answer would bring you nothing but more pain, and gods, you were over pain.

“Did he have her? She said no. You know those men like to keep their wife until marriage. I shall never know the truth.” He had not waited to have you. He did not plan to wed you.

“Perhaps he has a need, a pride, to break young girls' hearts. Perhaps it darkens his already black heart.” You twirled your finger upon the rim of the goblet you drank from while Prince Marion pondered upon your words.

“Perhaps. Or perhaps he is so careless he simply does not think of what is at stake to those around him. Only a few days after the news of his betrothal Nymeria was taken by a fever. I do not blame him for her sickness. But I will not have him parading around with his family proudly within our walls while my sister spent her dying moments wasting her tears on him. I wish to seek revenge for my sister… and I know you want your own form of retribution from the young prince.” Meeting his eye, you noticed the gleam of excitement. You could not lie; you were interested in what he had in mind.

“Hmmm.” You leaned on your elbow upon the table and allowed your chin to rest upon your palm as your amusement overtook your heartache.

“Wed me.” You could not contain the laugh the passed through your smirking lips.

“Wed you?”

“Yes. Wed me.”

“It may have escaped you, but I'm not your usual type.” He cackled at your words, knowing full well that he was attracted to his squires and court men and could not imagine being intimate with a woman. As dear as you were to him.

“Obviously my little lady. But just while he is here. We announce our engagement and partake in activities with a united front. Your ghosts need not know the truth. Let them think you are to wed me. Your family is within the royal party and shall be attending as well. Let your family think you are to marry into the greatest house in Westeros. And let the fickle little prince think his lover has been taken by a much prettier, stronger prince.” You were both laughing, but you knew the fatal flaw in his grand plan.

“Aemond cares not for me. I was just another body to warm his bed, and he left me discarded without a second thought. He will not care that you have me. Hells, he will likely not remember me at all.” The truth left you disheartened, but Marion only laughed harder.

“Those bastards from your little city are all the same. A man like Aemond will always consider you, his property. He has you once and in his mind no one else can have you again. I will never understand the greed and selfishness of your people. The ownership you all feel over your pleasure. Aemond shall know you, and he shall definitely care when he sees you by my side. Trust me.” You let your mind take over as you pondered on his proposition. If Aemond and your family were to arrive, you would have no choice but to see them during the dinners and banquets and the gloom that lingered over you at the mere thought sent a shiver racing down your spine. But the idea of your family having to bow as you took your position beside Prince Marion, and the thought of Aemond’s shocked gaze as you wrap a loving arm around your betrothed made the dark future a little brighter.

It was not murder. Nor was it letters. But you considered this the perfect revenge for those who wronged you.

+++

You did not go and greet the royal party upon their arrival. The Martell’s simply apologised that Prince Marion’s future wife could not make it. No one spared a second thought. Tonight, however, Marion was holding a masked ball in honour of the honoured guests. You knew now that it was the time to creep out from the shadows you had been banished to. Embarrassingly enough, however, a small part of you still found yourself waiting for a knock at your door as you readied yourself for the grand banquet. You don’t know if you wanted Aemond or your family to be behind it and you would never know, for they never came.

The nerves got the better of you, and you ended up an hour late to the festivities. Sneaking through a side door, you managed to enter without being seen and quickly blended into the hall full of masked figures. Fire twirlers and dancers hanging from silk upon the roof entertained the already drunken crowd, leaving no one to pay attention to your late arrival. The hall was deafeningly loud, with the music and the laughter battling one another. The atmosphere reeked of wine and food and the hall was humid from the fire and the dancing bodies. A banquet in Kings Landing would never be this exciting.

“Hello beautiful.” You felt an arm wrap tightly around you, drawing you in and leaving you facing a drunken fool. His breath was hot, and the smell of mead was bitter to your senses, leaving you nauseated.

“Get the fuck off.” You grunted, shoving him away in anger. The cunt swore under his breath before stumbling away, off to hunt down another victim, you were sure. The moment he moved; however, your vision was cleared, and you could see who sat upon the royal table. Gods, you wished you hadn’t.

“Handsome. Aren’t they?” Someone laughed as you were caught staring up at the silver haired figures. The entire Targaryen family were shoulder to shoulder as they put on a united front against the Dornish gaze. Your glare was stuck on Aemond, who stood proudly as he gazed down at those who he probably considered beneath him. He was still as handsome as ever, with his sharp jawline and glorious Targaryen hair. His posture was still flawless, and his black leather still fit his slender body perfectly. His eye was still covered by his eye patch, and you thought back to the last time you had seen him. The way he had bowed himself to you while you slid it from his face. The lies he told you when he said he only allowed you to gaze upon what was hidden beneath. Everything he ever promised you was now nothing but lies in your mind. You hated how handsome he looked, and you hated the way your heart raced the way it used to all those years ago. You wanted to scream right then and there, but you breath was caught in your throat.

Impossible as you thought it could be, you swore that when he looked into the crowd, he found you. But it was impossible. You had imagined the way his eye had widened, and the small step forward he had taken. He could not have known it you beneath the mask you wore. There were too many people around you for him to even spot your figure in the horde. Yet, for that very moment, your world stopped. The entire hall faded, and everything went quiet as you stood, staring at your lost love. The few seconds in your mind where it was just you and him, was bliss.

You thought back to the first time you met Aemond Targaryen. Your first-time meeting happened to be your first time alone with him. Your family had been invited to live in the Red Keep alongside your father as he made his way up the hierarchy of power. You cared little for his scheming, but the idea of living in a castle was exciting enough. The idea of living in a place with such ancient libraries was even more. You spent your days huddling in different corners, sprawling lazily in the window’s light or simply sitting by the empty fireplace in the corner, devouring every book you could get your hands on.

“It’s beginning to irritate me that you are stealing all the interesting books.” He had been watching you quietly from the balcony above every time you had wondered into his spot. It was his only place he could have peace and quiet, until you came along. For some unknown reason, he did not seem to mind.

“Prince Aemond. Apologies for interrupting.” You had gasped out, reddened in shock at the sight of him. He had slowly descended towards you, like a hunter to its prey. You felt something shift inside you that very moment.

“No matter. I see you hiding around here almost all hours of the day. What is your name?”

And for two months you had spent your days hiding within the library with your prince. It started innocently enough, sharing book suggestions and discussing his philosophy studies. Sometimes you think, you can’t remember what led to you spending your night squirming beneath his devilish touch.

You cursed yourself for reliving the memories of your past and for falling back to your foolish ways so easily. Turning to the idiot who asked the question in the first place, you grunted out your reply.

“I’ve seen better.” Marching away in frustration, you practically ran to the table that held the jugs of wine. One of the servants tried to slowly pour a glass, but you simply snatched the jug and filled your goblet to the very top. Downing it quickly, you poured another. It was beyond frustrating that after everything Aemond Targaryen had done, and after all the healing you had been through, you were still reduced to a love struck fool the moment you saw him again.

No. You would not allow this.

Turning quickly on your heel, your eyes darted between the courtiers and lords, trying to find the perfect one. Even with masks, you recognised familiar faces. Jason Lannister stood happily beside some poor young girl who only barely looked of age. The young Baratheon lord who once sent a poem a day to your rooms once upon a time was standing amongst some Dornish men trying to see who could gulp down a barrel of spiced wine the quickest. The Tyrell first-born who had promised to sail you around the world way back when, lay passed out beneath one of the fire dancers' stages. It was Aemond, and the thought of what could be, that had led you to reject the advances of all these men, but looking around now, it was obvious you had made the right decision.

“My wife… please listen…” You were shoved harshly from the left, leaving you stumbling to gain composure, while a light-footed woman darted past in anger. Your body recovered, but your heart began crumbling as you watched your brother try and chase the woman who was shoving her way through the crowd.

“Go back to that flexible dancer you bastard. I can tell you were enjoying watching!” Without a second glance, your brother pushed himself further, and swept you to the side so he could chase after his wife, leaving you trying to fight the ache in your heart. Your brother, whom you had adored from the moment you were born, had been wed without anyone giving you any information. Perhaps he had children, and now you were an aunt? What else had you missed out on?

“Excuse me, my lady?” Finally tearing your eyes from the sight of your brother, you turned to see a Lord bowed before you. His brown curls tumbled down his toned shoulders and sat pretty against his white undershirt that he had taken to only wearing in this heat.

“Yes?” You frowned at him, but taking in his muscular body, and his towering height, you knew you had found the right one. You did not need to do anything for it seemed he had come to act out your desire on his own accord.

“I am Lord Cregan Stark. I was hoping I may steal you away for this dance.” His hand extended out to you, and you happily grasped on to it with a seductive laugh.

“Oh, you may.” You had taken a liking to the toned man already, and you melted as everyone brushed to the side quickly to let through his towering form. But he was too gentle. You could barely feel his touch as he guided you to the starting position of the dance, and when you began moving, he did not pull you any closer than need be.

“A Stark in Dorne? I did not think your house left the snow for anything.” You let your fingernail drag over his bicep as you spun and felt a sense of pride in the way he clenched at the sensation.

“My younger sister Sara wished to visit the court of King Viserys. I am simply her humble guard. We did not realise a visit to Kings Landing would end up being a trip to Dorne.”

“And do you like Dorne?” He pondered on your question for a moment, before sadly shaking his head.

“No. And I don’t like Kings Landing either. It is much too hot for my Winterfell raised body.” You smiled at his bluntness; happy he was truthful in your conversation. But you were given no time to reply. A brawl broke out in the centre of the hall, and you felt yourself swept back in the horde of people moving away from the violence. Screams began ringing out and soon everyone began pushing harshly against one another to escape or join in on the savagery.

“Sara!” Cregan cried out as he craned his neck to look around the hall. You pushed him arm away from your shoulder as he tried to keep you away from the commotion.

“Go and find her! I will be alright.” He looked at you for a split second, before giving you a grateful nod and pushing his way in to the centre of the circle. It seemed the brutality was only gaining more force and you found yourself being shoved around harshly, rattling your brain and leaving you breathless and dizzy.

“Marion!?” You cried out, trying your best to push your way out of the stampede of feet and arms failing around you. Just when you thought you had reached the outer circle of the fight, the crowd surged in your direction, and you felt yourself fly towards the stone floor beneath you. You cried out in fear and threw your hands forward, bracing yourself from an impact that never came.

“There you are sweetheart. Sorry I’m late, I was looking everywhere for you.”

You could have cried. The familiar safety of his arms wrapping around your body almost broke you then and there. The voice that haunted your dreams was so smooth, you forgot everything. When he pulled you tightly into his chest and moved you forwards, carrying you from the danger, you couldn’t help uttering his name from your lips.

“Aemond…” You whispered, your eyes closing in relief as you found yourself able to breathe again. You felt him brush the hair that had been stuck by sweat to your forehead and began caressing the side of your face as you relaxed into his arms. You were still overcome with dizziness from the ordeal.

“My love, this is where you’ve been hiding from me, I see.” You don’t recall if you imagined the crack in his voice or not. You struggled to breath properly leaving Aemond to run his hand along your back in worry, and he pressed a firm kiss to your temple. He did not see the tear the escaped your closed eyes.

“You…” You croaked out, before quickly shaking your head. Pushing against him, Aemond tumbled back with a start and stood staring at you in shock. You kept shaking your head as you stumbled backwards, trying to rid yourself from the warmth that had taken over you by his touch.

“Stop. Come back I… I must look upon you longer. I must convince myself that you are real and that you will not fade before my eye.” He stalked forward to grasp your hands, but you quickly ripped them away and shook harder. You thought it might be pain that flashed across his face, but it was surely not.

“NO! You do not get to look upon me! You do not get to touch me! I will not let you whisper your words any longer!” You tried to steady yourself on a tree, and only just realised Aemond had pulled you into the gardens for safety and fresh air. You heard him move behind you, and without thinking you quickly began walking forward. You don’t know where you were going but you just wanted to be away from him. You remembered the way he would chase you around his bedchamber when you would deny him a kiss unless he caught you. You pictured the memory of him finally wrapping you up and shoving you against the wall while clutching your hair and kissing you with unimaginable passion. The memories were too much to bare and you ran you fingers vigorously through your hair, as if trying to peel them away.

“Stop! No, I won’t let you run away again!” You heard Aemond quickly move to follow you, making your walk turn into a run. Dashing forward without a second thought, you ran straight into the entrance of the maze at the centre of the garden, running faster as you heard Aemond’s heavy foot falls behind you. You weaved around corners and took sharp turns in different directions, hoping to lose the prince who was desperately trying to follow. He was muttering and growling in frustration every time your body slipped away from his reach.

“Leave me Aemond! I do not wish to see you!” You cried out as you stormed around another corner. Aemond called out your name while ignoring your plea and chasing after you even faster.

“Well, that is too bad! You owe me this do you not think!?” His voice was weaved with anger, and you could hear the way he was shoving away the branches and trying to rip his way through to you.

“I owe you nothing!” You were shocked by his nerve, but you thought him just trying to provoke you. Marion was right. Men like Aemond would always think himself an owner over those he takes to bed, but you would not allow him to have that control over you. How dare he think you owe him anything after he played you a fool?

“Just come to me so we can…. please just let me talk to you once more.” You shivered at the desperation in his voice. He was a brilliant actor. Perhaps if he wasn’t born a prince, he would be in plays.

“We have nothing to discuss Prince Aemond. You should find your way back to the ball, it is in your honour.” You found yourself back at the very start of the maze, so you bundled up your skirts and took off in the direction of the feast. You heard Aemond cry out your name in protest, begging for you to return to him, but you paid no mind. You did not imagine you would hear your name on his lips once more. Tumbling into the open doors, you were quickly swept up in Marion’s arms.

“Where the fuck did you end up?” He laughed in relief, bundling you up and pressing a firm kiss on your forehead.

“Don’t ask.” You moaned into his neck. You held him tightly, desperate for some relief to the pain you were feeling.

“Aemond!” You heard the cry of Queen Alicent, and could only assume that the prince had followed you in. The hall was emptied of its guests and all that was left was a small handful of noblemen who seemed to have been waiting for the safe arrival of Aemond after such vicious fighting.

You thought you would feel a small satisfaction that he would be greeted with the sight of you wrapped up in Marion’s arms, but instead you felt cold and empty. Once more Aemond whispered your name, but you did not turn and instead focused your attention on Marion. With a small squeeze on your elbow, Marion placed a kiss upon your forehead and wrapped a loving arm around your waist.

“Ah Prince Aemond! A thousand thank-you’s for returning my betrothed to me so safe and sound. I was overwhelmed with worry.” Aemond’s intake of breath was sharp and loud as Marion declared you his future wife. You hid yourself behind so that no one saw the tears well in your eyes.

“My son… come.” Alicent ordered sadly, almost pitifully.

“Is this true?” Aemond snapped.

“Yes! I have found myself quite fond of my little lady.” In fact, I…” Marion was cut off by Aemond raising his voice.

“Will you not at least have the decency to fucking face me?” He seethed out. You could stand it no longer. Stumbling forward once more, you walked briskly towards the exit. Your brother and father stood to the side, jaws slack as they took you in, but you cared not. All you wanted was to be alone inside your bedchamber to wallow in your despair. You just wanted to be alone.

You did not see the way Aemond stared at your shrinking figure in despair.

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i don't know why some names don't link sorry

#aemond targaryen fic #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond x you #house of the dragon aemond #hotd imagine #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon #house of the dragon imagine

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sunnys-out · 3 months

Text

Not a Fairy Tale Ending | Ali Krieger x Reader

A/N: Hello! Thanks for the kind messages while I have been away studying for the LSAT. Just also want to say that this is completely fiction and Ali would NEVER act this way. Again requests are closed...thanks for understanding.

From prompt list: 20. "And I… I still love you, even after all of this time".

TW: Emotional manipulation, anxiety/panic attack symptoms, NSFW alluded, no happy ending...well kind of

WC: 2420

My face remained calm as I looked towards the teleprompter and not at the newer pundit on the other side of the table. My knee quietly bounced under the table and did not stop until one of the other pundits leaned over and said “hey, you never get nervous…I get it but you got this like always”. I only nod as my attention does not waver from the teleprompter.

God, I wish it was nerves…it was more like years and years of emotions physically manifesting themselves. Sadness in my chest, anger in my arms, fear in my legs, and finally yearning in my eyes.

The director behind the camera signals me to start.

“Welcome to Morning Footy here at CBS Sports, where you get all of your football news. If you are new here, My name is (y/n)/(l/n), former two-time FIFA Women’s World Cup champion with the USWNT, and former midfielder for Arsenal and Wolfsburg”.

I finish introducing my fellow pundits and then subtly take in a breath before I start, my knee beginning to bounce betraying the calmness in my voice as I begin.

“And today we are introducing our newest pundit for the month, fellow two-time FIFA Women’s World Cup champion, and recently NWSL champion, Ali Krieger” I could not feel my hands as I clapped as I looked over at Ali. The last time I had seen her in person was at my retirement game that we had with Ireland and I could not even remember when that was.

Her smile was cordial and genuine from what I could tell from across the table.

“Ali, you’ve played with and against (Y/N) before, it must be nice to see a familiar face here huh?” the pundit beside me patted my shoulder, bringing me out of my slight daze.

“She's been an amazing player since the beginning and now a pundit! I tell you she swore up and down that she would do coaching and never be a pundit” she teased as the pundits looked at me as I just shrugged my shoulders.

“The way life works you know” I said sheepishly, my knee not bouncing any slower than it was a minute ago.

Ali continued, “Still I would love to go back and just partner up with her in training again like old times.”

A little laugh escaped me as my fists were clenched underneath the table

“Sure you would,” I thought to myself.

______________________________________________________________

I had my first cap with the USWNT in the 2007 Algarve Cup in Portugal…fresh out of UNC and was signed by Wolfsburg. I hadn’t had any serious relationships and I was fully out. I think then I was the happiest I had ever been…then I met Ali Krieger. It was from a distance and by that I mean the passing glances and touches from when I would either get a ball from her or she would get the ball away from me.

She was at Frankfurt and I was at Wolfsburg and we were eventually introduced by our teammates solely on the basis that we were two new Americans in Germany. I remember only bits and pieces from then but I remember that she looked at me with admiration as I already had a couple of caps with the USWNT and that was something she was aiming to do in the next year. I liked the attention that she gave me after that match because it was genuine.

I was called into camp for the Four Nations Tournament in 2008 and for the first time I was not considered a bubble player. I had proven myself worthy enough for a semi-permanent spot on the team and that was truly an honor. Ali also made it to the camp meaning I was no longer the baby of the team.

We were all gathered around and Rampone started her usual speech before the practice and introduced the new debutants at camp.

“Ali, you’ve played against (Y/N) before. It must be nice to see a familiar face here huh? You both can pair off since you’re familiar with each other” Rampone patted her shoulder after the talk.

Ali nodded towards me, “Can I see if anyone else is available, I don’t want to bother (y/n)?” Rampone shook her head.

“She doesn’t bite I promise…right? (y/n) you don’t bite?” She says towards me as I take a drink from my water bottle.

I respond with a confused look towards her, “Uh….no?” and with that Rampone gently pushes Ali towards me.

I toss her her water bottle, “Rampone likes to stick the babies of the group together on the first day of camp, sorry about that”

Ali sighs, “Nah it’s no problem…just want to get to know more people here…not that you’re not great or sorry… I’m being stupid”

I shake my head, “hey no I get it, I mean it took me a bit to get to know people, but if you can’t find another partner, I’ll still be here to take you so don’t worry”

Ali smiled at me and said thanks before leaving and pairing up with Wambach…I did wish that Wambach turned her down but it’s alright because Ali did come to me after Boxx rejected her partner offer a couple days after.

______________________________________________________________

I was always the backup for Ali, I didn’t mind it…camp was lonely at times and when she would be with me I felt less alone. I let myself be there for her when she was sad, lonely, angry at the world, but she never did so for me…I didn’t realize that until much much later.

“So, as former national teammates y’all were close right? How was (Y/N)? Any dirty secrets you can spill?” the pundit beside me joked as he elbowed me once again. I only, playfully, roll my eyes at him as Ali answers the question.

I did not look at Ali as she said the following, my refusal to look at her could easily be interpreted as shyness or not being able to take praise.

“Oh (y/n), she was such a great player both on and off the pitch. She was always there for me especially when there was nowhere else to go. I was so glad to have been able to celebrate with her at her last game ever. She means a lot to so many people…(y/n) you mean a lot to me especially”

I did not feel my body at that moment as I slowly breathed in her words, my body now felt like I was in the middle of the ocean and I did not feel the bottom.

______________________________________________________________

I don’t know why it always happened while we were with the USWNT…club was when I had some reprieve from Ali but I also missed her…it was such a double-edged sword. She was a drug and I was addicted to her.

We were called up for the 2011 World Cup in Germany. I remember Ali talking to me sharing that she was talking to this other footballer during the camps leading up to the World Cup.

I did my best to hide the jealousy I held when she spoke about the player with such admiration…I was just there to hold all her love for another…and then be there to hold the pain when caused by another…

I heard a small knock on the door of my hotel room, I looked up from my book and looked at the clock, 8:42 PM…

“Tobs? Don’t tell me you lost your key card again?” I call out but get no immediate answer.

A small recognizable “It’s me” sounded through the door. Tossing my book onto my bed and opening the door to only be engulfed in a hug by Ali was what I distinctly remember.

Her tears wetting my old UNC shirt as I immediately pulled her in, “Hey, Hey, hey…what’s wrong?” My hand gently rubbed her back as she continued sobbing into my chest.

“She broke up with me” came out muffled as I felt her fist gripping at my old shirt leaving it wrinkled when she finally let go.

I did not say anything and just led her to sit at my bed while I stayed crouched in front of her.

“Ali, I'm so sorry, you really did not deserve that, honestly. Who in their right mind would think to do that while you're in a tournament… ” I say softly as I grab her hands and warming them in my own.

Ali looked at me, tears streaming down her face, “I thought I meant a lot to her you know…like you have always been there for me and I thought she would too but she left me”.

My body moved on it own as I engulfed her in a hug and saying, “I will never let you go, you mean a lot to me and you will find someone who will also show that”

My memory becomes unclear because when I pulled away she had my face in her hands as she brought me into a kiss. I had dreamed of that moment for so long and it was happening. My thoughts at that moment were that she had chosen me…she chose me…

A quick call to Tobin to let me have the room for the night and everything seemed to be my fairy tale ending as soon as she kissed me again and saying “ (y/n) you mean a lot to me especially”

She would come to me the next morning before the Brazil/US match to say that she made a mistake and that she hopes that I can just forget about it and that we can still remain friends. I nodded and saw her walk off to eat with some other players while I elected to go back to my room saying I needed to call home…my eyes burned as the tears filled my eyes once I was out of sight.

We won that game…but I agree with the critics…it was my worst performance of my career…so much so that I was subbed off at the 70’ minute.

I got so much backlash from the media for my “attitude and lack of decorum” when I was seen kicking my seat before sitting down at the bench…I was frustrated, angry, and sad…not because of my poor play but because of how much Ali had affected me.

She did not see the look I shot her when she turned away from me after patting me on the back after the game going , “Hey we all have bad games, don’t think about it too much”.

______________________________________________________________

I quickly turned away playing the shy card as best as I could.

“Nah, don’t say that…we were all like family on that team…I’m not special” I say with such a fakeness that it actually made me feel ill.

The director finally signaled the end of the segment to break for a short snack and conversation. Normally, I would stay at the table and eat my blueberry Costco muffin while chatting about the Premier League with my fellow pundits…but I wanted to leave immediately and hide in my shared dressing room…

I got up from my seat at the table and before I could get 10 steps away from the set, Ali called my name. Before, hearing her say my name would make my legs buckle beneath me but now it made me want to walk away from her faster. I didn't. It seemed that my feet were frozen to the ground.

She caught up to me and grabbed me by that arm leading me away even before asking.

“Can we talk privately?”

I sigh, as I lead her to my shared dressing room and lock the door behind us.

Words of encouragement flooded my head as I finally turned around and with as much confidence I could muster.

“What did you want to talk about?” I say as I cross the room and sit down at the nearest chair in the room.

Ali, wrung her hands, “I just wanted to talk…the whole thing with Ashlyn has been hard and it made me realize how much I missed you…how you used to always care for me and life has been busy so we never really talked much since you retired…I just wanted to see if we could possibly try this again?”

She got closer to me and I immediately stood up which caused her to reach out to grab my hands.

I found myself back in that hotel room, back to teary eyed Ali Krieger begging for my comfort…knowing that I’d crumble and give in…

“Stop” my voice firm as I moved my hands away from her…

I step back and tried to keep my voice from cracking as she looked at me confused,

“Ali…I can’t…I don’t want to do this again…I was never your first choice always a back up until you found someone…” She steps forward trying to interrupt me and grabbing my hands again but I move away.

“Ali…no” my voice finally breaks…

“I loved you Ali…since we first met…And I… I still love you, even after all of this time but I can’t do this anymore”.

She remains frozen as I continue, “You can’t just come to me after your heart is shattered expecting me to be there for you…expecting me to just give in and kiss you and so you can have a temporary happily ever after…this is not a fairy tale ending Ali…I don’t want to do this again”.

I grab something in the room to give reason to me being in here and get to the door, “I’m not changing my mind…I deserve to get the same love that I gave you for years…it just will never be with you…I’ll see you back at the table”.

Ali stayed behind…she returned minutes later…we never spoke about it or to each other again…the cordial smiles and banters on the camera that month would be the last time I ever spoke to Ali Krieger…and, for a moment, after her time as a pundit ended I felt that same feeling of freedom when I left UNC…before meeting Ali…and no one outside of us two, the public, my fellow pundits, the fans were none the wiser.

Well until I told my, now, wife about it…because she became the true fairy tale ending to my story as we kissed at the altar and that’s all that really matters now.

#woso x reader #woso imagine #uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine #ali krieger x reader #ali krieger imagine

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fatuismooches · 5 months

Text

fabulam diu oblitus - postlude.

synopsis: The tale of the raven and the sparrow has long been forgotten by most, but some will always remember.

includes: dottore w/ gn! reader

notes: This is the fourth part of this fic, please read the other parts first! It seems that the fairy tale of you and Dottore comes to an end. Follows some of Sumeru's storyline. Warning for death. Angst. Thank you to my mootie @kaixserzz and my all of my dear anons (🎐, 🐓 <3) who kept me inspired to keep writing this fic :3

prelude. first interlude. second interlude. postlude. sequel.

“The raven and butterfly’s happiness continued for much longer. But of course, every creature is aware that nothing lasts forever, and even the lightning in the sky would agree with that statement. All fairytales must come to an end. That was no different for the raven and the butterfly.”

There had been a buzz around the lab lately. Some of the segments had been ordered to leave for a Fatui mission. Which, would have been a normal occurrence, were it not for the place they were headed to this time.

“Sumeru? You’re going to Sumeru?” Your home country had instantly gotten your attention, not only because you haven’t been back in centuries, but also because the segments were never usually dispatched there, instead causing their usual chaos in other nations.

“Indeed. We will see if the Balladeer is able to become the God he so desires to be,” Omega hummed, moving a hand underneath your shirt to record your heartbeat. Ah, that was right. The puppet had stolen the Electro Gnosis to use as his ascension into godhood… and Dottore would be there to see how his experiment plays out. Well, you already had a feeling about how that would turn out.

Moving on to a different subject, although Sumeru was the home you and Zandik were chased out of, you still held fond memories of it. Many happy things happened there for you, so the thought of it made you smile.

“You have to bring back lots of stories for me! And souvenirs! Oh, I would love to see how much Sumeru has changed from all those years ago,” you dreamily smiled. Yeah, your favorite cafe was probably gone by now… but you’d love to see what replaced it!

“Of course. I expect there will be much to say with the God of Wisdom and the Traveler intervening as well,” Omega chuckled, scribbling down something on his clipboard after glancing at the monitor, before fixing your shirt back.

“Your vitals have been better lately,” the segment commented and patted your head, which you happily indulged in. It wasn’t too noticeable, but it seemed like your body was getting even a little bit better. Not much, a little. But that was good anyway. “But run along now. There is much preparation to be done regarding the trip to Sumeru.”

“Okayyyy,” you stretched your words a bit disappointedly, not wanting to leave the segment, but you knew he had a lot of work to do. So instead you settled with pecking him on the cheek which he of course returned tenfold before you went off on your way. You had quite a few segments to say goodbye to, after all! You’d miss them a lot, but, you still had the other segments here with you. And your lover of course.

Surely, they would be back in the blink of an eye. Yes, surely, they’d return just as they always did. You had no reason to think otherwise. And so for the next few days, everything was normal. Time passed regularly. You got through the days as you did with any other.

But one day was different.

You were in your room by yourself, enjoying your alone time. Because as much as you loved being around the segments, you still liked being by yourself too. But all of a sudden, your tranquility was interrupted by literally a bang on your door, which made you jump.

The knock on your door was frantic and loud. Immediately you hopped out of bed to see what could possibly be so important that your door was getting pounded, but when you opened the door there was no one there. You were very confused… how was that possible? This was a pretty long hallway. Even with the segments’ abilities, there was no way they could just disappear into thin air like that.

A bad feeling began to creep up on you, your stomach twisting and turning. You don’t know why, but it just did. But surely you were overreacting. Perhaps… perhaps… actually, you didn’t have any valid reasoning you could think of right now. Maybe though, maybe you should go and check on them. Just in case. You know that they’ll be there, in the lab doing their experiments or perhaps bickering with each other as usual, but there was nothing wrong with double-checking. And then you’ll calm yourself with a nice hug from one of them. It would all be okay.

But you found that your steps were quicker and longer than usual, your breathing heavier than usual. As you got closer to the main lab’s doors, you strained your ears for their voices, anything, something, but heard nothing. You licked and bit your lip that had gone dry, weak legs walking even faster if that was possible, before you swung open the doors, hoping to see those blue mops of hair you so desired to see.

Nothing. The room was empty.

Your footsteps slowed, walking into the room cautiously. It was strange because it looked as if there were people in here just a few minutes ago. Notes that were left unfinished halfway. Beakers that had broken on the floor, with some mysterious liquids soaking the floor. Strange, very strange. And yet no trace of any segments remained.

The bad feeling had grown into something much worse now. Where else? Where else could they be?

Their rooms. You should check their rooms. They were usually there if they weren’t in the lab, doing their own respective work (because their office and rooms doubled as one since they didn’t need to sleep.) So despite how your chest burned, and your legs ached, it didn’t matter if it meant your heart would be soothed and relieved.

You ran as fast as you could, more like you tried to because your illness had really kicked in since your mind was stressing out a great amount. As you clung to the walls, catching your breath, you paid no mind to the random agents who were looking at you funny, nor did you manage to catch their words of “Omega” or “erased” or “gone.”

It took longer than it should have taken you, but at last, you made it to the corridor with the segments’ rooms. You didn’t bother to knock, swinging open the door to Alpha’s room.

Empty.

Beta’s room.

Empty.

Every single room was empty. Fuck, even Zandy’s room was empty. And he was always in there if he wasn’t with you. Your head was throbbing with unease now, your heavy, troubled breathing sounding throughout the whole hallway. Where? Where? Where did they go…?!

“[Name].” A voice sounded from behind you. Spinning around, it was Dottore. Your Dottore! Okay, at least he was still here!

“Dottore,” you breathed a sigh of relief. He would have an explanation for this. “Dottore, where are all the segments? I-I can’t find them anywhere. I mean, I know the lab is really big, but it’s strange for them not to be in these areas,” you placed a hand on your rapidly beating heart, trying to calm it, not noticing your husband’s expression.

“...” The scientist was unsure of how to break the news to you because he knew of the bond you shared with the segments.

“Dottore? Why aren’t you answering me?” He opened his mouth to respond, but paused, seemingly trying to determine the best way to phrase his words. That only worried you more, because he was never one to sugarcoat his words. Your nervousness had returned once more, burning heat from fear creeping up your shoulders. “Zandik, answer me.”

“They’re gone, [Name].” The words took a few moments to settle in, silence overtaking the area for a little bit. But only for a little bit, as your nervous laughter rang out interrupting it.

“Gone?” You repeated. “What do you mean gone? They just can’t be gone. Right? Right, Dottore?” The nervous smile that had etched its way onto your face hurt badly, the laughter mixed with wheezing was painful, but it was all you could do to convince yourself this was a lie.

“Omega has… deleted them in exchange for the Electro Gnosis.” You looked at him blankly, the former emotion on your face gone.

“Deleted? Deleted from this world? From existence?” Your tone got higher and higher as you continued speaking. You didn’t even know Omega had the ability to do that. Or that the segments could be erased in the first place. Dottore just nodded in response.

“But- but why? Surely t-there was another way?” Your voice was on the verge of breaking into tears.

“He wanted to show respect to the God of-”

“Respect? To a God, of all people?” You hissed, bubbles of anger surfacing now through your agony. “He’s a Harbinger, is he not? And he’s stronger than that God! He- he could have easily found another way! He didn’t have to DELETE the segments! Another method HAD to have been possible! Did he even try to negotiate?!” Hot tears ran down your cheeks as you raised your voice at him. It took everything it had in you not to fully scream. You began to pace back and forth, hand covering your already tear-streaked face, whole body shaking. Your husband could only watch.

Dottore wasn’t thrilled with Omega deleting all his segments either, with the endless resources that went into creating them, but what’s done was done. And both the Electro and Dendro Gnoses were acquired. But you? You were on the verge of hysterics. He had never, not once, seen you like this.

You had come to a stop, head buried into your arm as you braced against the wall. Oh, the segments were gone forever. They were never coming back. You could only imagine how they must have been in their last moments. That they only had a few more moments to live. You couldn’t bring yourself to think about what Zandy must have thought in his last few seconds.

And what’s more, the segments had disappeared into… nothingness. There was no trace, no remains of their bodies whatsoever. And although seeing their bodies on the floor would have certainly destroyed you, perhaps this was even a worse fate. Because it was as if they never existed at all. You couldn’t even hold their bodies one last time, or give them a proper farewell. They were just… gone. Oh, how you wished you could have at least been there in their last moments, to provide some comfort, some love, some sense of peace. The more you thought about it, the countless memories with them flowing through your mind, the weaker your violently shaking body became as you struggled to hold yourself up. Dottore instantly noticed and, worrying about your frail condition, walked up to you before you spat out at him.

“Do not come near me.” Out of all the centuries Zandik has spent with you, he has never been on the receiving end of much anger from you. Rather, it was you who dealt with that from him. But this wasn’t just anger. It felt like venom.

“Why…” You pulled yourself up once again before glaring at him with teary eyes. “Why didn’t you stop him, Zandik? You could have, couldn’t you? They didn’t have to die…!”

There was only one answer the Harbinger could provide, even though he knew you would not like it. “It was necessary to obtain the Electro and Dendro Gnoses for the Fatui.” To this, you could only laugh again once more before digging your nails into your palms so hard it hurt.

“I see. I see…” You mumbled brokenly before stepping off to the side, your steps still unsteady and wobbly as you nearly tripped. Dottore once again tensed up, body wanting to move to support you, but the look on your face made him decide against it. You then walked past him, not sparing another look at him before exiting the corridor, tears still silently running down your face. He could only watch you as you left him standing, wondering about many things yet nothing at all.

—

“From that day, there was a drastic shift in the butterfly and raven’s relationship. The butterfly was indescribably hurt by the loss of the other ravens, and could not bear the pain. It was the first time the raven had ever been subjected to such cold treatment by his lover. Usually, it was the other way around. And it seemed like fixing this would not be easy.”

Dottore thought that if he gave you some space, you’d cool off soon enough.

He thought wrong.

You had flat-out been ignoring Dottore since the day the segments were erased. And not just refusing to talk to him. You didn’t even want to be in the same space as him. If he came into your room, you would just leave. As soon as he opened his mouth, you were gone. In order to give you your meds, he had to wait until you were sleeping to slip in, because of the way you were acting. When it was time to eat, he had to leave the meal outside your door, otherwise, you wouldn’t eat. That is if you even took it. The grief made it hard for you to do a lot of things, which made it imperative for him to help, but you didn’t want it. You were distraught, but you were angry too. Why?

Because you truly loved the segments.

Dottore did not. He did not feel the same connection as you did. So he was at a loss. He didn’t know what to do to resolve this. Apologize? No, he suspected even if he did, it wouldn’t mean anything, because you’d know he didn’t fully mean it, and it wouldn’t bring the segments back anyway. Comfort you? You wouldn’t allow him to hold you or talk to you. Il Dottore did not know what should be done.

Omega received similar treatment when finally returned from Sumeru, the Gnoses in hand. Normally, you would be waiting at the entrance whenever he returned from expeditions. This time, however, you were not, which he supposed he should have expected. You didn’t want his stories. His gifts. No, all you needed to know was that he deleted the segments. They were gone because of him, and you didn’t want to see him right now.

Omega was not a human. He was a segment. Though, that didn’t mean that he couldn’t feel emotions. He did - when it came to you. But Omega was a selfish segment. Selfish when it came to a lot of things, you included. And selfishness and emotions do not bode very well, as it becomes… a convoluted mixture.

The segment thinks of himself as a patient man. He knows how to wait, and wait, and wait until it pays off. He can do that for you, too. Wait for you to come back to your senses. After all, they were just segments, right? And the superior one, the best one of them all was still here - him. So surely you won’t be like this for too long.

Just like his creator, he was proven wrong. He learned the depth of your anger a day he tried reaching out to you, wanting to put this whole situation behind. But you certainly didn’t share the same sentiment. It was like any other day, him talking to you and you walking away, but this time he reached out for you. The segment unconsciously longed for your touch, your affection, that was once so commonplace.

But as soon as you felt his fingers brush yours, you slapped Omega’s hand away with a scowl. You didn’t need to say anything. That one action spoke everything you wanted to.

You would never view him the same ever again.

—

“And so the butterfly found themselves drowning and suffocating in grief. Their whole life had been changed, the creatures who helped them through so much were now gone. But that would not be the last of the butterfly’s sorrow.”

You had been giving the cold shoulder to Zandik and Omega for a long time. Considering how clingy and affectionate you were before, they didn’t even know you had it in you. But now, it was as different as night and day. However, it wasn’t as much as it was before, because you still had to rely on them in order to live. Despite how much you didn’t want to, without them, you’d be dead. They were the ones who had to administer your medicine and give you check-ups so your condition wouldn’t get worse (although it already happened after the segments were deleted.) It was funny how easily progress could be reversed. How one thing, one random day, could change everything.

So eventually you had to let them in a bit. Most of the time you just ignored them and rarely spoke. Even during the checkups and shots, you had your head turned the other way the whole time. They would still attempt to talk to you, in hopes you would even grace them with a “yes” or “no” rather than the rare nod of your head. But it wasn’t very fruitful.

Another habit of yours now was that if you weren’t in your room, you were most likely in a segment’s room crying. Especially Zandy’s. Clutching his plushies. Or maybe Alpha’s. Trying to fix up the parts he left lying on his desk. Or Beta’s. Going into his closet to wear his coat. Dottore knew better than to clean out their rooms because you would most likely snap at him again.

You didn’t have much energy to do anything else but lay in your room, blankly staring at the ceiling all day, your head a foggy, grief-filled mess. It did not feel good… you hated the feeling… but what else should you do…? You just wished you could feel the warmth of your segments… the seemingly annoyed but secretly delighted posture of Alpha as you held him from behind. The bitey nature of Beta that didn’t let you go once you were in his clutches. The small, clingy body of Zandy as he cuddled into your body, sweet dreams blessing him instead of the nightmares. But you could only dream about those things now.

Even the regular Fatui agents had noticed this development. The lovey-dovey nature of Il Dottore’s spouse was now reduced to this. You heard them speak about it.

“Have you noticed? Lord Dottore has been far more irritable lately.”

“Oh yeah, both Omega and Prime! I feel bad for those who have to work directly with them…. At least my job is just standing at this door all day.”

“I know. They always were terrifying, but it seems even worse now. Ugh, and now there’s even more work for us since all the segments are gone.”

“Do you know why? Has Lord Pantalone decreased his budget again?”

“Yeah, it’s kind of obvious…” The agent lowered his voice to a whisper. “His spouse, [Name], has been giving them the silent treatment for ages now. Don’t tell anyone this but, I believe that our great Harbinger, Lord Il Dottore… is feeling the effects of this. I’ve never seen them act like this!”

“Is that so? Speaking of, I don’t think I’ve seen them around here very much.”

“Well yes… if you were here for as long as I have been, you’d normally see them all over the lab but, they tend to stay locked up in their room nowadays. And Lord Dottore as well, he doesn’t leave his office much either. Omega seems to take care of much of the outward responsibilities.”

So that was what it was like. You got your answer to if Dottore missed you. You wondered how many people accidentally became his test subjects due to his rising temper because of you. But though it may not have looked like it, not speaking to your husband was hurting you tremendously as well. Because at the end of the day… he was your love, your life. He was your Zandik, the one who meant everything to you. The one who went through everything and anything with you. He was the only one you had… you still loved him, terribly so. Maybe that was a bigger weakness than your illness.

But that didn’t mean you were any less mad at him.

Omega, on the other hand… ah, you didn’t even know what to think anymore… you were so conflicted, it was so hard to even think… when you said you loved all the segments, that included him too. But he deleted all of them… you hated him… but did you love him too? No, you should continue to hate him, he was the selfish one… Zandy was gone because of him… you couldn’t forgive him! So you didn’t forgive him. The days continued the same as always.

Until one fateful day.

Omega was set to head out on a mission. Which was quite unusual nowadays, because ever since the clones were deleted, he couldn’t afford to leave Snezhnaya with all the work that had to be done. All you had heard was that the blonde-haired traveler would be there too, from all the whispering around the lab.

But what did it matter to you? Whether the segment was here or not, it was the same to you. His whereabouts were surely not of concern to you, so you had no feelings on this. Though the night before he was set to leave, he knocked on your door anyway. You immediately pulled the blankets over your face and curled to the side of the bed so you wouldn’t see Omega. The door shut with a click and his boots sounded against the floor.

“Hello, [Name]. I’m sure you’ve heard by now that I am leaving soon. It is another critical mission for the Fatui, and I suspect the Traveler will be there once again.” He didn’t receive a response from you, which he expected. “But I’m sure this is of no interest to you, anyway.” He guessed right, you thought, you didn’t care. However, even after saying what he had to say, he did not leave. A silence overtook the room as neither of you moved or spoke. But then Omega called your name, with another short silence coming after it before he spoke once more.

“I will not ask for your forgiveness, because I know I will not receive it, nor will I apologize, because I believe I took the right course of action. But…” Omega paused, “I still hold you fondly. I still…” He reached his hand out to your covered body but drew it back before his fingertips could brush you.

“I hope we will be able to talk more once I return.” He seemed to wait a few more seconds, perhaps hoping you would stay something, hoping he could at least see your face before he left, but to no avail. All you heard was the retreating footsteps and the click of your door shutting once more. You pulled the blankets off so you could breathe properly again, as you thought about his words.

What should you do? You didn’t know. The segments had passed quite a while ago, and the pain was still fresh in your heart, but Omega… ugh… perhaps, maybe, just maybe, you could try talking to him once more. Only an attempt. If you didn’t like how it felt, you’d stop. And he wasn’t returning from the mission for a few months, so you had ample time to make your decision anyway.

But Omega never returned.

The next few months flew by quickly, and though Omega had not returned yet, you thought nothing of it. Something must have come up that delayed his return. It’s happened before, it probably happened again. That was until you noticed groups of Fatui huddled together murmuring in the lab. As soon as they saw you, they went back to work and shut up their little gossip quickly, which was very strange. Now you really needed to know what was going on, so you decided to silently eavesdrop on the next pair you found. But you would have never thought of the words you heard next.

Omega had been killed by the Traveler.

Omega was dead.

Omega wasn’t coming back.

You would never see him ever again. The realization made your body weak as you stumbled back, having to cling to the wall for support. He was gone… the tears immediately sprang to your eyes, as you covered your mouth to keep your sobs down. Omega killed the other segments. Maybe a part of you should feel glad. But no, all you felt was red-hot grief and pain, as you crashed into the nearest random room, and cried, and cried, and cried.

If you knew that was the last time you would see him, you wouldn’t have acted like that…

You wonder why things had to turn out like this.

—

“The butterfly never truly recovered from their loss, but as they say, time heals all wounds.”

After Omega died, you didn’t have the energy to be mad anymore. You were just tired. Tired of everything. Everything felt like a chore. Though you saw your husband more often now. Since there were no more segments, and Dottore obviously wouldn’t trust even the best Fatui doctors with you, he was the one who did all the usual medical stuff for you now.

Admittedly, his touch felt nice. It felt good. It felt like exactly what you needed right now. Comfort. So you gave in. When he had finished the usual procedure, as he turned his back on you, you reached out and wouldn’t let go of his hand. Dottore stiffened from the contact - it had been a while since you’d touched him so intimately - but you didn’t let go, and only weakly tugged him closer, which he complied to. You couldn’t bring your eyes to meet his, instead blankly staring at his shoes, but he seemed to get the message anyway. Tentatively, he wrapped his arms around you to gauge your reaction, and when he saw no resistance, he pulled you into his chest and held you. You missed this feeling. You missed Zandik.

And maybe you were scared he would leave you too.

Things continued like that for a while. You’d seek your husband out for his touch. His presence. His voice. Anything that would bring you some peace. Though you still remained mostly silent during these times. You just didn’t know what to say. Sometimes you wondered if he was mad at you. Annoyed. Disappointed. You didn’t want to know though. You were content with the fact that Zandik would hold you in his lap even at the wildest hours of the night.

But now, it had been some time since Omega’s death and even longer since the other segments were erased.

You weren’t quite ready to move on, no, not yet, but it was inevitable. Or perhaps you would never truly move on, instead, they would always be a part of you. You’d always carry them with you. But regardless, you needed to try, at least for Zandy. You think he’d want you to try and smile more often. You were speaking a bit more to your Harbinger friends again, and finding some enjoyment in your hobbies. Not to mention your relationship with Zandik was becoming better again. He had still been there, even when your illness and grief had you at your worst, with no complaints. Even though he had nothing to gain from this relationship. Even though you had become someone different. He had always loved you.

But there was still a rift caused by everything that had happened, that you wanted to fix. Because at the end of the day, in this world, you two only had each other. So you decided to talk to him about it. You had a habit of this, just waltzing into his office without knocking, and came upon Dottore who had a small box in his hand, appearing to gaze at whatever was in it, before he quickly snapped it shut at your sudden arrival. You recognized that box. It was the one where he kept his wedding ring in. So he still had it like that after all these years. You pretended like you didn’t see it as he swiftly put it away.

“[Name].”

“Zandik. Are you busy right now?”

“No.” Both of you knew that was a lie. The Second Harbinger was always busy. You knew for a fact he was stretched thin, especially since he wasted so much time taking care of you along with his Fatui duties, which piled up quickly with no more segments.

“Alright… can we talk?”

“Of course.” Zandik had been especially attentive to your words lately. Perhaps because he missed the times you would talk his ear off.

“I want to make something clear.” Zandik looked at you curiously as you took a deep breath. Many possibilities raced through his head.

“I still love you, Zandik.”

Well, he certainly wasn’t expecting that, and you could tell, even though his expression did not betray his thoughts.

“You already know the reason I’m…” Your voice trailed off, not wanting to say the words aloud, but you continued. “But I… appreciate you for staying by me. For all these centuries, through everything. It’s been a… very long time. And although things are different now, I want us to be… happy again. It might not be immediately but… it’s because I love you, Zandik.” You swallowed, at the end, your voice growing a bit softer. Ah, you hoped that wasn’t too sentimental. Zandik’s expression was blank so you couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

“So yeah, that’s all… I guess.” All of a sudden, the silence that followed made you embarrassed, and you wanted to leave there as quickly as possible. “Okay, I-I’ll let you do your work now.” And then you hastily made your exit and left the Harbinger alone, before he started chuckling to himself. He’d expect nothing less from you, his dear, darling spouse.

Though he wonders if you realize time is irrelevant for him. He’ll wait for you as long as it takes.

—

“One thing about the raven and the butterfly that would never change was that they were wholly intertwined with each other. Their fates were one. So even if they happened to go their separate ways, they would inevitably return to one another again.”

It was actually quite scary how fast time flew. From the time you woke up, to marrying Dottore, to the segments passing, to right now… it felt like a blur. You guess, now that your life span was no longer that of a regular human’s, time was starting to skew a bit for you. Well, you were just excited to spend decades more, even centuries with him.

Throughout all the years that had passed since that day, you found yourself falling more and more in love with Zandik again. You suppose that should be normal for a married couple but, it never ceased to amaze you how one man could make you feel like this.

Something that had become somewhat of a habit for the two of you was dancing. Yes, dancing. It had come up during one of your wedding anniversaries. To be honest, neither of you really did or planned anything special for the day. Perhaps there was a bit more kissing along with other affectionate activities, but you two didn’t look at it as something that big. First, because you didn’t want to waste his already precious time, but also because you knew from the beginning the wedding anniversaries would be countless. So every anniversary was more of something you expected, so it was nothing too big to celebrate, especially as people who lived this long… if that made sense. And Dottore… was Dottore after all. Never one to care much for dates.

But on one anniversary you were reminded of how you two danced during the wedding. Your clumsy steps as Dottore guided you through it all, and you wanted to relive that, so he indulged you. And funnily enough, you were a lot better! Your steps weren’t as unsteady and your body didn’t ache as much. Dottore’s feet didn’t get assaulted by yours too much. Even Dottore was pleasantly surprised. It probably had to do with the fact that although you weren’t cured yet, your health had been up on an upward curve. Of course, never the best but, much better than you first were. You were proud of yourself for making it this far.

So now, when you had time, you found yourself rehearsing your steps with him and your husband twirling you around. Perhaps one day you could reach his level.

You found that there were days that reminded you of the Akademiya. Where you could help him with his notes and research like a real assistant would. Obviously, it still wasn’t the best but it was something, and you could see that Dottore liked it. These days often came with you teasing him with embarrassing memories from the Akademiya.

“I still remember when you got motion sickness from piloting that ruin golem, Zandik.”

“For the last time, I did not get motion sickness, [Name].”

“Mhm, sure. If I didn’t drag you out, you would have-”

“That is enough from you.”

You found that there were more days he would take you out into the Snezhnayan winters (you were bundled up to the max) so you could finally see the snow. You found yourself attending your first balls at the Tsaritsa’s palace, as Dottore was now forced to attend himself rather than his segments. He didn’t want to leave you by yourself in the dreary lab so… you were often his plus one, where you spent the evening poking fun at him with Columbina. (You also were the one who publicly took sweets to-go from the parties for him so he wouldn’t get judged.)

And perhaps your favorite memory was when he took you back to Sumeru - yes, to another country - so you could witness the Akademiya Extravaganza festival. He, of course, had no interest in it, but you being you and loving fun things absolutely did. Many things happened, including meeting the Traveler… but that story was for another day.

All in all, you always knew this but, you found that no matter how many years passed, no matter what Il Dottore has done, no matter the amount of sins and wrongfulness he has committed… you were hopelessly in love with him. From the time he was that perpetually irritated but in love student from the Akademiya to his current self, the Harbinger that was a stark contrast to his former self but still possessed you for himself.

Sure, it was a bit lonely at times compared to before, but all the tender moments throughout the years made you happy to have Zandik in your life. Which is why you foolishly thought these times would last forever.

When Dottore told you he was leaving Snezhnaya, and therefore the lab, and therefore you, it jolted you right up from your sleepy daze on his lap.

“What?!” The word came out as a half yell, half-whisper. “What do you mean you’re leaving Snezhnaya?”

“It means I’m leaving Snezhnaya, dear,” he continued on his paperwork (which never seemed to end) as if this was common knowledge. “The mission needs a Harbinger to oversee it, and the task falls to me this time.”

You were devastated. There were times when Dottore only had to leave the lab for a few days to attend to matters in different parts of Snezhnaya. (You spent the time at Columbina’s mansion because oddly enough, she always seemed to be there… how did she manage to shirk her duties so often?) But this was completely different. He would be so far out of reach, for a long time probably too. Foreign missions always took a while. You remember how long you had to wait for the segments to return from them.

“Okay, then I’ll come with you!”

“No, you’re not,” he immediately shut down your proposition. “Missions are still far too dangerous with your current state. You will stay in Snezhnaya, and wait for me to come back.” You knew when he used that tone, things were final, and you hung your head low, all sleepiness gone at the fact you wouldn’t be seeing him for months. Sure, you would be staying with Bina as usual but, you had a feeling it’d be hard to replace the rush of emotions Dottore gave you on a daily basis.

Dottore noticed your dour expression, which he obviously expected, and sighed, setting down his pen. At this point, it was a sort of routine that he had memorized, comforting you and all. Although comfort would never be something he was adept in, years of doing it had let him become somewhat proficient.

“[Name],” he moved his hand to guide your chin up so you could look at him. You were pouting. “These few months, or even less, depending on how quickly the work gets done, will only be a blink of an eye in the grand scheme of things. I’ll be back before you know it,” he hummed. Although he certainly was not pleased about leaving you by yourself for so long, such was the life of a Fatui Harbinger. It was at times like these he missed his segments. (Did that sound selfish? Well, he was a selfish man when it came to you.)

A drop in eternity, huh? Well, when he puts it like that, then maybe it would be just a bit bearable. And, when you think about it, he’s waited over four hundred years for you, all alone. So this little challenge couldn’t be too hard, right?

“Alright… I’ll wait for you, Zandik.”

“Good,” he chuckled at how easy it was to win you over sometimes and stroked your cheek. “In the meantime, you can work on the recipe you’ve been vehemently hiding from me and show me when I’m back.” You immediately brightened at that.

“Oh yeah! I promise you’re going to like these sweets better than the ones at the bakery!” You proudly declared.

“Oh? Now that’s a high standard you’ve set yourself to, dear. Are you sure you’re going to be able to live up to it?”

“Hmph, don’t underestimate me. My baking skills have improved over the years!”

The banter always made you two feel like regular humans, despite what you two really were.

—

“The days went by peacefully for the lonely butterfly, but soon that feeling was shattered when they learned of a golden comet’s presence near their raven.”

The days in Columbina’s mansion went by rather uneventfully. Surprisingly enough, she wasn’t home as often as usual. It seemed like the Fatui were really stepping up their business now. You’d have to ask Dottore about that. Maybe the day Celestia is defeated was closer than you thought. But today was a day Bina had some time to indulge in cakes and conversation with you. The chit-chat was mundane but brought a sense of comfort until the conversation somehow ended up with Dottore as the topic. Your friend always liked teasing you about him. Everything was lighthearted and sweet until she idly mentioned his mission.

“I wonder how your Doctor is doing on the mission~”

“Well, I’m sure he’ll be fine. He’s Dottore after all.”

“Mhm, that’s right. I do wonder how he plans to deal with the Traveler though.” The mention of the blonde’s name nearly made you drop your teacup.

“W-What?” Your voice cracked as you implored your friend to tell you more. You were now realizing that you neglected to ask Dottore what the mission exactly was, and he did not reveal the contents as well, probably because he knew you’d freak even more if you knew he was most likely going to confront the Traveler. Columbina looked confused.

“Dear, did he not tell you?”

“No! I- ah, he only told me he has a mission in another nation, I guess it slipped my mind to ask him the details!” You now had your hand clutched to your head and another one trying to soothe your now rapidly beating heart. A naive and very stupid part of you thought it wouldn’t have to come to this, but it already did, so quickly too.

Why were you so particularly scared? It was because all you could think of was Omega’s death by the Traveler’s hand, as well as your fellow colleagues. You knew that Dottore was far stronger than any of them but… you were in a panic. All the worst possible scenarios began invading your mind relentlessly.

“[Name], calm down. Dottore is strong. We do not even know if it will end in a battle or not, but regardless of the outcome, he is smart enough to-” Bina attempted to comfort you before you interrupted her and abruptly stood up.

“I need to go.”

“Go? Go to Dottore, dear?”

“Yes. Yes, I need to see him. I need-” Your words were becoming a jumbled mess from the anxiety this piece of news caused. “I need to see him in person if he’s okay.”

“You do not think you should think about this some more? I suspect the Doctor will not be happy if he sees you there, even if it’s you of all people.”

“It doesn’t matter. If I stay here, all I’ll be able to think about is him.” You could already see yourself losing sleep and appetite over this. “But as long as I can see him okay… even if he’s angry, I can deal with it. Anything is better than being over here helpless!” Columbina watched you silently.

“Alright. Be ready in a few days.” You looked at her in surprise.

“Bina? You’re helping me? You’re not going to… stop me?”

“Dear [Name], I will not get in the way of a decision you’ve made for yourself. If this is what you’ve decided, then it is my duty as your friend to assist you as I’ve done in the past. And perhaps this will teach the Doctor a lesson to stop withholding information from you,” the Harbinger sighed.

“…Thank you, Columbina.” You’d have to repay her sometime later.

—

“The raven and the butterfly found themselves reunited again at long last, and would stay together like that forever.”

It was funny you found yourself back here, your home country. It seems like you two were always drawn back here, despite no longer being welcomed. But that didn’t really matter too much, because as soon as the boat you were on pulled into the port, it was clear that today was not a normal day in Sumeru City.

You were too late.

The fight had clearly already begun, probably only recently too, by the chaotic state of Sumeru. Obviously, it’d be out of order if there were two immensely powerful beings in battle with each other. Maybe, if you were just a bit sooner… but you already had your mind set. Although the Fatui agent entrusted with your safety was ready to head back already, his orders to not let you come to any danger, you just tranquilized him. (It was a courtesy device from Dottore in case he wasn’t near.)

And you ran. Was that a good idea considering your illness? Absolutely not, but desperate times called for desperate measures. Was it a good idea to walk into the middle of a battle? Also no, but you couldn’t shake the bad feeling you had this whole time.

Although it was far away, it was easy to spot the place, as for one there were Fatui swarming the area and also regular citizens running in the opposite direction. Though your lungs were absolutely burning, your knees weak and scraped from tripping, tired from bumping into others, illness flaring up even worse from the added stress and exertion, you continued ahead with only one goal. To see your husband.

Throughout your haggard walking, you thought of the future. You thought of how great it would be to see Teyvat change in the next four hundred years just as he did. And this time, Dottore would not have to witness it by himself. He would have you. It would be amazing, just thinking of all the variety of new inventions and such that would be created! You two would surely dissect them and put them back together for fun. You two would do a lot of things, you think, as you finally made it to the door of the grand building the fight was in. It was already rather damaged, but the door managed to remain mostly intact, so you pushed it open.

Just in time to see the Traveler land the final fatal hit to Zandik, his body landing on the floor with a painful thud.

Your worst nightmare had become reality. But… Zandik told you he’d return to you in no time…

Suddenly, all the will you had before was gone in an instant. You didn’t have the energy or focus to call out his name. All you could do was blankly stare at his defeated body while taking some hesitant steps forward, all while mumbling something incoherent under your breath. The Traveler, despite their exhaustion, noticed you and immediately readied their sword again. But, they soon realized that there was no need for that from the exceedingly dull look in your eyes and the way you tripped over yourself again, landing on the floor, reaching out your hand towards the Doctor. You had to make it to him.

You pathetically dragged your body closer to Zandik, every part of it screaming out in part for you to stop. But you didn’t care. You could take it. After all, you knew the pain would soon be over. The Traveler merely watched you, still a bit on edge for what you could do, but you didn’t care. You didn’t care about anything besides Zandik, so you continued inching your body to your husband before you finally reached him. His body was practically motionless, his face revealed as his mask was destroyed to the side somewhere. When you came into view, a flicker of surprise came across his face but it quickly morphed into one of acceptance.

“You’re not supposed to be here.” You half-laughed at that.

“I could say the same to you…” Your voice had dropped to a soft, defeated one. Huffing and panting, you used your last remaining strength to pull yourself up and kneel, tenderly bringing your husband’s head onto your lap. He did not resist. It wasn’t like he had the strength to anyway. “You didn’t tell me you were going to be here, either.”

“It was not necessary… at the time,” Zandik said, looking right at you the whole time with those red eyes of his. “But I suppose I should have expected this. You never do as you are told, do you?”

“Of course not. But you should remember that whenever I break the rules, things turn out fine for us.” You smiled, and you had a feeling both of you were thinking of the same memories. That time you helped him break into the Akademiya’s library when it was closed, or the time you threw a book at someone for him, or the time you two helped each other on what was supposed to be solo assignments. Or the times you ran away from his needles and medicine, or the times you went behind his back and befriended the others. Those times ended out okay, so this time would be okay too.

Then, the building began to rumble, most likely about to collapse. The battle must have been quite fierce. Although the Traveler felt no remorse for the two of you, their kind heart still couldn’t help but feel the slightest twinge of pity. After all, the blonde had read the notes the two of you left scattered around Sumeru. To think that a relationship could last so long, especially one with the mad Doctor… You noticed their expression before you rasped out a mixture of a plea and demand.

“Why are you still here? Leave us now. I want to be alone with him.” Your words were empty of emotion towards them. There was no point in any hostility anymore, not when you had to treasure the last moments with your beloved. The Traveler didn’t seem surprised by your words, as they nodded and threw the bloodied Harbinger one last glance, before running away with the little fairy. It seemed they knew… you’d rather die here along with him than live without him.

You looked back at Zandik’s face, his once brightly colored red eyes now a darkened hue.

“I’ve failed you, [Name].” Since it was the end of the line now, even a genius scholar such as him had to admit defeat. Dottore thought back to all the times he swore to cure you. He swore he would do it so that you could be who you used to be once more. But he failed. He let you lose centuries of your life and left you in pain for your conscious ones. But you didn’t seem to share the sentiment.

“Failed me?” You couldn’t help but laugh at that, despite the tears that began to run down your cheeks. “Oh darling, you have never failed me. Not once in over four hundred years.” Zandik continued to stare at you because that was all the strength he had to do, so you reached for his hand and brought it to your cheek.

“You’ve loved me continuously for so many centuries, haven’t you? How could that ever be a failure?” You nuzzled into his hand, his own blood beginning to smear on your face, but you didn’t care.

“Your love has changed so much over time. From your prickly and thorny yet beautiful love from the Akademiya. To your smooth and unabashed love now. But your love was unfaltering, to me at least. Perhaps I may be delusional, and I overthink how much you love me. But I think it was real, even though you may never admit it, that is what matters to me. So if you’re thinking about the cure, forget it.” Your hands were shaking and struggling to hold his to your cheek for this long, energy spent, but you continued anyway, even as a piece of the infrastructure suddenly caved in and collapsed on the opposite side of the room with a loud crash. “The cure isn’t what mattered. It was you.”

Zandik thinks you are the only person who has forgiven him. Not even he has. He knows he does not deserve it, but he shouldn’t say that to you now. But he thinks, even at this moment, perhaps it may seem sick or morbid, your beauty still manages to surpass that of any other being in Teyvat.

You thought about the Tsaritsa, who had shown you much love and kindness. You hoped she would finally achieve her goals. You thought about the other Harbingers, the ones who were still alive at least. You would miss them. You looked at your wedding ring. It was still intact. How lovely. Lastly, you thought about Zandik as you looked at him, and he seemed to realize something.

“[Name], reach into my pocket.” You were confused but you complied, wincing in pain a bit but successfully reached it and pulled out a box. It was the box he kept his wedding wing in. Popping it open, you were correct, and still couldn’t help but be a bit incredulous.

“You brought it with you?” You were surprised because a part of you still believed he thought the whole thing was a bit dumb.

“I normally do not but, with the length of the mission, I believed it would be a simple and easy way to be reminded of you.” That was cute.

“Sorry. I guess the good luck charm didn’t work,” you smiled apologetically as you slipped the band onto his finger, to which Zandik scoffed.

“You know very well I do not believe in luck.” You only laughed, though it was mostly drowned out by multiple crashes and rocks falling all around you. Being buried was a fitting end, to be honest. No one else needed to know about the two of you. No one else needed to know your stories. It would be best if the two of you ended up forgotten, lost to time. Then, no one would be able to misunderstand or twist your relationship.

Despite all of the pains that had befallen you, the suffering and hardships, you could happily say you lived a good life. You were happy, so happy, thanks to Zandik. Zandik was what made this life worth living… so this was okay. You would have loved to have been cured and lived out many more happy memories with him but… this was alright. But the time was limited, so this conversation needed to be wrapped up in a way that would satisfy you.

“I love you, Zandik.” You don’t expect any response back because of your husband’s poor track record with saying those words.

The times Zandik has said the words ‘I love you’ have admittedly been scarce and in-between despite the centuries he’s spent with you. It was a grand total of… two times. And both had been said when he thought you were sleeping.

The first time had been in the Akademiya. It had been a while since you two were a couple, and he had yet to say it. You expected that obviously. But one random night, when you two were cuddling and drifting off into dreamland, you heard the three words mumbled into the crook of your neck. It took everything in you not to react.

The second time had been when you had recently woken up from your coma. Dottore was around you constantly, taking so many tests that it made your head spin, and you had to take naps more often than not. And once again, as you were just about to slip off into slumber, you heard the three words whispered as he gently bit your ear.

Surprisingly enough, the third time would be now. Perhaps because he had nothing to lose anymore, as it was the end.

“I love you as well, [Name].” Your eyes go wide for a few seconds before you grin widely one last time, and you give him a look that says ‘I know.’ Zandik watched your eyes flutter shut as you leaned down to his face, and he let himself be enveloped in your final kiss, neither of you paying attention to the shadows cast by the multitude of broken architecture about to fall on top of you.

Let the fairy tale come to a close.

—

“In his last moments, the raven was taken back to a memory from centuries ago. It was a memory where he was truly happy with his lovely sparrow.”

Zandik awoke to a blue sky and a gentle breeze. He blinked, immediately trying to gauge where he was. But then the sound of a familiar voice flooded his senses.

“And you know what this professor had the audacity to say to me, Zandik? ‘Figure it out!’ Like, you’re supposed to be helping me, not writing me off! You’re getting paid for this!” You were lying down on the grass next to him, hands folded as you huffed. “At least I have you, Zandik. Way better than any damn professor.” He blinks at you.

Zandik remembers this moment. It was the day when exams and classes were finally over, and you wanted to relax before helping him with his experiments. And you also thought it was the perfect time to rant about all the professors you had to deal with over the last few months. But soon, you just started bringing up random things that occurred over the term. Zandik couldn’t remember the last time he saw you like this. Donning the Akademiya uniform, so happy and carefree… healthy, strong, like nothing in the world bothered you.

He found himself slightly smiling at how stupidly happy you looked, before reaching out to you. But as soon as merely his fingernails came into contact with you, you began to dissolve right in front of his eyes. Immediately, he stiffened and sat up, again trying to take hold of you but you were no longer there. Zandik’s hands began to shake, and that’s when he realized his surroundings were changing.

The blue sky was now fading away, becoming pitch black along with everything else that was chipping away, ready to swallow him whole into the darkness.

Ah, he understood now.

This was the end.

—

“Finally, the twisted raven met his fate.”

Or so he thought. Zandik woke up once more. Everything seemed normal at first, the blue sky was once again there and the Sumerian breeze caressed his hair. Until he realized there was a sticky substance coated all over his hands.

Blood.

This wasn’t an unfamiliar occurrence for him, after all, he would usually get hands-on with his experiments, but he had an… odd feeling about this. Zandik blinked and all of a sudden, there you were lying on the ground in front of him.

Dead. Coated with blood.

Did he… kill you?

All too quickly, before he could reach out to hold your body or begin to process what happened, he was suddenly somewhere else. The desert.

Zandik laid eyes upon you. What he would usually see was you complaining about the heat while you dug through the ruins. What he saw instead was an Eremite plunging a sword through you.

And again. This time he awoke to you being completely cold and limp in his arms. And again. It didn’t take his brain long for him to understand what was happening.

His victims and test subjects could torture him for eternity, yet Dottore would not feel bothered or a shred of remorse. It would be a useless endeavor. But this? This was the perfect punishment.

His beloved being killed in front of him, by the world, by other people, by natural forces, by his own hands. And for all of the power and knowledge he once had, he was powerless to do anything yet again.

… How ironic, Zandik thought.

—

At last, the tiny Archon closed the storybook.

It had been ages since the events in this tale had taken place. The Fatui were no more, Celestia was gone, the Traveler had long left this world, and Teyvat was at peace. So much time, that the Outcast’s name no longer floated around the Akademiya, now long forgotten. The God of Wisdom herself had gained a tremendous amount of knowledge from all the years that had flown by. And even still, she has not forgotten this story.

Yet, in all of her wisdom, she still cannot hope to fully understand the raven and the sparrow. The Dendro Archon found herself coming back to this tale, trying to comprehend their actions and thoughts. She reads it aloud to herself, draws pictures, and crafts the tale with her own words, yet it only leaves her more lost. Perhaps one day she will understand. But perhaps she won’t. Perhaps no one ever will.

After all, there were only two people who would ever truly understand the bond between the raven and the sparrow.

Zandik and [Name].

An unfriendly and cold scholar and a sweet and caring one.

An immoral villain and an accomplice.

A violator of this world’s laws and a supporter.

A Harbinger and an assistant.

Regardless of those titles, perhaps at the end of the day, they only saw themselves as one thing to each other.

Two people who loved each other as if nothing else mattered.

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tom-foolery-incorporated · 2 years

Text

All for me?

>AFAB! Gender-neutral! Reader, virgin!reader, shy!reader, neurodivergent coded!reader, Diavolo being an ass, corruption kink, deflowering, mutual masturbation, vaginal penetration, romantic sex, dirty talk, mentions of tickling, demon form, size kink, oral, squirting, unsafe sex (condoms are great you should use them xoxo), soft!Diavolo, horns make great handle bars, fingering, finger sucking

Your relationship with Diavolo was a slow one. You had only started daring near the end of your first year at RAD and now, in your second year, people could hardly tell that you two were dating. You were always the shy one, never really wanting to rock the boat, but the Devildom had made you slightly more confident. But still, you were never really confident in the relationship department. You'd never really dated anyone for this long, it was usually a short fling with a couple of dates then nothing. You remember never really being the most desirable person when you were in high school so relationships came second to everything else in your life. It felt strange, really, having Diavolo dote over you. He'd rarely do so in public, royal image and all that, but in private the way he'd hold you and whisper sweet nothings in your ear made you antsy.

Diavolo never got to hold you for long, your skin would feel overwhelmingly tingly and hot from his touch. It was as if bugs made from hot irons were crawling all over your skin. You couldn't tell if it was a good or bad feeling but you did know that it was a strange and new sensation that made you want to run away. It was kind of difficult, Diavolo always wanted to hold you with your legs draped across his and your head on his chest but it almost burned to be held like that. The sadness was evident on Diavolo's face when you'd move off of his lap to instead sit next to him with his arm draped across your shoulder. The tingling sensation never went away but was lessened when you did that.

As time went on, you noticed how much touchier Diavolo was being. His hands slid from your shoulders to your waist, his touch lingered longer, and he spoke in a lower more quiet voice so you'd lean into him. It made your body light up like a house on fire but the burning sensation still remained. This sort of love made you feel like you were wrapped in comfort but also like you needed to throw up at any second. When Diavolo was courting you, he flooded you with gifts. You felt honored to receive such attention from the Prince but also guilty from how much attention and money he was wasting on you.

"I'm not wasting anything if it's spent on you," Diavolo had told you one day over tea when you brought it up, "but if you wish for me to stop spoiling you then I will." The sadness was evident on his face. Still, he found different ways to show his affection. It was honestly amazing how dense you were at how strong he was coming on. You thought he just wanted to make the human feel comfortable but it wasn't until you spoke to Solomon that you realized he wasn't doing the same for the other exchange students. It took Solomon to beat you over the head with a hammer, figuratively speaking, for you to realize that the Prince was in love with you.

Your life kind of became a fairy tale. The Prince falling in love with the commoner and spoiling them with riches and attention like straight from the pages of the Grimm Brothers. Yet, you could tell that Diavolo was getting antsy. Your quiet and reserved demeanor seemed to stir something up in him. It all led to you spending the night at his castle one time. Diavolo did his best to exemplify the mood of the room with wine and chocolates and soft music but you didn't seem affected.

"Darling," Diavolo placed his wine glass down onto the ornate coffee table next to yours. You looked up at the prince through the top of your eyelids while your head rested against his shoulder. "Are you happy?" He carefully moved his arm to wrap around your waist so your head would rest against his broad chest. The bugs returned and crawled up and down your skin with their molten feet. "Yes," you replied, "why wouldn't I be?" Diavolo hummed, pleased at your words. "I just wanted to make sure." His fingers stroked up and down your sides making you squirm at the ticklish sensation. "Hm?" Diavolo looked down at you and how you seemed to wiggle away from his stroking, "is my little human ticklish?"

That was a loaded question. No matter how you responded you were going to get tickled. Your brain turned its gears trying to come up with an answer that could save your mortal soul from being tickled but you took too long and Diavolo went ahead and danced his fingers up your sides anyway. You jerked with laughter as your body slowly drifted off of the couch and slumped onto the floor to escape his dangerous fingers. Joy was spread across Diavolo's face at your reaction. You pouted with your head resting on your lover's knee, your cheek squished against the bone. "Sweet little thing," Diavolo chuckled, "I wonder what other secrets you're keeping from me." You leaned your head back to look at Diavolo. His heart was hammering in his chest with how innocent your looked for him. "I hope I'm not overstepping any boundaries," Diavolo's hand came to stroke your cheek, "but are you a virgin perhaps?"

Heat ran through your veins at his question. You were but you didn't know how to answer his question without feeling like a loser. Here you were, an adult virgin. "You don't have to answer if you don't feel comfortable," Diavolo's face softened, "but just know that I do desire you in such a manner." You could feel a lump of heat swell in your chest at his words.

"You do?"

"Of course," there was a purr in Diavolo's voice, "I only wish to bring you pleasure like none you've experienced before."

You shivered at his words. "Well," you averted your gaze in embarrassment at what you were about to admit, "I've never, uhm, experienced pleasure like that before." Diavolo tried to keep the sly grin from creeping onto his face. He knew it, he could smell your virginity on your like a bouquet of roses. "You've never even touched yourself," Diavolo's voice took on a sultry tone, "not even down there?" You felt like your face was glowing with heat, "what-what do you mean?" You knew exactly what he meant but you couldn't believe what he was asking. "I mean," Diavolo guided you back up to the sofa so you were kneeling next to him on the fine cushions with your chin in his grip, "have you ever masturbated before?" You almost choked on your own spit trying to come up with an answer. "Y-yeash," you tried to say 'yes' and 'yeah' at the same time, "yes. I have. I mean, who hasn't?"

"You've what?" Diavolo couldn't hide his teasing smile any longer. You pouted at how he was acting. "Now you're just teasing me." You tried to move away from Diavolo but a hefty hand took your in a firm grip, "I'm sorry, my love." Diavolo smiled with furrowed eyebrows, "you just looked so cute flustered like that. I promise I wasn't trying to be mean." You squeezed Diavolo's hand, "it just felt like you were making fun of me." Diavolo's face turned into one of concern, "oh darling! I promise I wasn't trying to be malicious!" He took your face in his hand, "I'm sorry for making you feel that way. It wasn't my intention." You pressed your face into his hand, the bugs continued to crawl all over you but it wasn't a bad feeling you realized.

"My dear," Diavolo started staring into your eyes. His gaze burned but you tried not to look away. "I have to admit I had ulterior motives for inviting you over tonight." Your eyes scanned over his face in worry, what was he going to do? "I wish to have you," there was nothing but the upmost love in his eyes, "I want you to be writhing underneath me in pleasure. I want to bring you to peaks of ecstasy you never thought possible." You could feel your legs giving out at his words. You gripped the back of the sofa to steady yourself. "Me?" you asked. Diavolo tried not laugh at how cute the question was, "yes, my love, you." You couldn't hold back the whine of need that fluttered out of your throat. Diavolo's horns poked through his skin as his demon form overtook him from the sound of your needy whine. Your eyes widened in shock as you fell back against the sofa. Diavolo reached a hand out to stroke at your face, "I'm sorry, MC. You just do these things to me. I can hardly control myself when I'm around you." The nervousness began to rise throughout your body when you noticed the bulge beginning to make itself prominent behind the white piece of fabric over Diavolo's crotch.

"We won't go any further if you don't want to," Diavolo said doing his best to control himself, "it's up to you." You nodded taking a large gulp of your own nervous saliva. "I think I'm ready," you said with your eyes never leaving the large bulge your lover held between his thighs. "You think or you know you are ready?" His eyes held a serious gaze that made you melt. He really did care about your well being. Diavolo would never go forward with any part of the relationship without you first giving your approval. You nodded, "I'm ready. But-" You tried to find your words under your lover's intense stare, "can we go to your bedroom first?" Diavolo hummed stroking the soft skin of your cheek, "of course, my dearest." Diavolo stood up, his impressive wings folded behind him while he held out a hand for you to take. You placed your own hand in his palm and he couldn't help but marvel at how small your hand looked in his mighty grip. Diavolo gingerly helped you off the couch, making sure your legs were steady enough to carry you before taking off in the direction of his bedroom.

"My dear," Diavolo hummed pulling you closer so he could wrap his arm around your waist, "you said that you touch yourself. Might I ask how often and to what?" You groaned at his question, "that's so embarrassing!" "I just want to know so I can best please you. You don't have to answer if you don't want to." You huffed, your boyfriend was going to see all of you before you know it so why is this such an embarrassing question? "I, uhm, I don't know," you looked away from your boyfriend trying to keep your cool, "I don't really keep track." Diavolo hummed holding you closer as you both turned the corner down the hallway to his room, "and do you indulge in porn?" You held your mouth in your hand trying to find your words, "sometimes."

Diavolo took a hold of the ornate door knob before swinging the door open and ushering you inside his luxurious room. The fourposter bed was like something out of your most extravagant dreams carved with images of dragons and monsters and adorned in silk. "Only sometimes?" Diavolo closed the door behind him, "and what do you think about when you don't watch porn?" You felt like a frying pan just hit you in the back of your head. You're now going to have to admit that you've touched yourself and orgasmed to the thought of the very demon you were about to make love to. "You," you said in your quietest voice. Diavolo smiled wickedly, "I'm sorry dear, I didn't hear you." You tried to force your voice to be louder, "you!" A chill ran through your body when you heard Diavolo swear under his breath. "I need you MC," Diavolo came up behind you to wrap his arms around your waist, "I need your body to be mine." You couldn't help but rub your rear against the prominent bulge that was bumping up against you.

Diavolo let out a low groan and held onto your hips. He started rocking his clothed cock against your clothed ass. Goosebumps rose on your skin at the way Diavolo moaned into your ear. "Would you take off those cursèd pants, my love?" Shyness overtook you once more at the thought of being naked in front of Diavolo. Humans were nowhere near as impressive as demons in their form. You wonder if he'd become disgusted with your body and change his mind.

"My love?"

Diavolo stopped grinding against you. He held your chin in his hand and pulled your head back so you would look at him. "Are you okay? Do you need to stop?"

"I just don't-" You didn't know how to explain yourself.

"You don't want to continue?"

"No! I do but I don't know how you'll-"

"How I'll what?"

"What you'll think of my body."

Diavolo turned you around so he could better look at you. He held your face in both of his hands which managed to run the length of your head. "My sweet darling,"concern pooled in his eyes, "I love your body."

"But you've never seen it."

"I'm seeing it right now. Clothed or unclothed, I love your body. I love your body because it holds you and everything you are."

Tears pooled in your eyes at how genuine his words were. Diavolo got onto his knees to better hold and comfort you. You wrapped your arms around his neck while the tears rolled down your cheeks. "I love you," you sniffled, "I love you." Diavolo wrapped his wings around your form and held you tighter. "We don't have to continue if you don't want to," Diavolo kissed your temple. "Just give me a quick second," you said wiping the tears from your eyes, "sorry for killing the mood." Diavolo continued to press kisses to your head, "you did no such thing. I want you to feel as comfortable and safe as you can with me." You pressed your hand to Diavolo's cheek and took his lips into a passion filled kiss.

Delighted with the way you were taking charge, Diavolo kissed back with a firm grip on your hips. Your taste was intoxicating like the sweetest nectar he could find. Diavolo greedily took more of your lips into his, deepening the kiss and holding the back of your head with his right hand. You pressed your chest up to his. The feeling of bugs crawling all over you turned into a low burning heat that flooded your veins. You couldn't help the moan that poured out of your mouth and into your lovers. "My love," Diavolo spoke against your lips, "would you be so willing to strip for me?" You nodded at Diavolo's words but before you could pull away to do exactly what he asked, he held you firmly against his body. "I want you to use your words," Diavolo hummed, stroking your cheek with the back of his hand. "I will. I'll-" you couldn't believe what you were going to say, "I'll strip for you." Diavolo practically purred at what you had said before letting you go. He moved to sit on the edge of the bed, pulling his harem pants and the white cloth that covered his crotch down to reveal his cock. It stood at a good 9 inches with the girth of your wrist. It's head was throbbing red and leaking pre-cum like a broken fountain. His erection looked painfully neglected and he made that clear when his hand wrapped around the base and he hissed. Your eyes couldn't move away from how big his manhood was. His bottoms fell to his ankles and he unceremoniously kicked them away. A dark glint came to his eyes when he saw that deer in headlights look on your face.

"Don't be afraid, MC," Diavolo stroked up his cock, pushing more pre-cum out of the already dribbling tip, "you don't have to take all of it." Your knees wobbled at the thought of having your boyfriend deep inside of you. Your fingers found their way to the button on your pants which you undid much to Diavolo's delight. Despite your inexperience at putting on a show of this kind for the viewing pleasure of another, Diavolo was thoroughly enjoying the way you undressed for him. Each stripped article of clothing revealed more and more of your body for Diavolo to gaze upon. He took his lip between his fanged teeth at the sight of your now nude body standing before him. His hand squeezed at the base of his cock making him groan. He did his best to hold back the cum he wanted to shoot all over your pure form.

"Come here," Diavolo ordered releasing his cock from his death grip. You wobbly strode over to your lover who took your waist in his grip. His hands rubbed up and down your sides, massaging the fat of your hips and the hard bones of your ribs. You held your wrist up to your mouth, hushing your moans and sighs of pleasure. Diavolo held your rib cage in his hands with his thumbs pressing down on your nipples. You moaned at the new feeling of his thumbs rubbing circles against your sensitive chest. Diavolo pulled you closer until you could feel his breath against your ear. "So beautiful for me," he hummed into your ear, "I want to watch you touch yourself. I want to see how you look unraveling from your own fingers. Let me study your form as you please yourself to the thought of my cock gaping your pussy hole open." You moaned not only at his words but the way he pinched both of your nipples and pulled slightly before letting go. "Go ahead and lay up against the pillow," Diavolo held your knuckles to his lips, leaving kisses on each of the bony protrusions. You nodded before taking your leave to the other side of the bed and climbing onto the luxurious sheets and laying against the pillow with your knees to your chest. Diavolo climbed up the bed like a predator stalking its prey. The sight of him in such a state in his demon form made you shiver in what seemed to be a mix of fear and excitement.

"Spread your legs, darling," Diavolo rested a hand on your knee while his other held his cock once again. You slowly opened your legs and you noticed the way Diavolo's eyes never left your core once you did so. Your clit was puffy and throbbing with need as your juices ran through your folds making them glisten. You were sure you were going to ruin the expensive sheets beneath you but Diavolo didn't seem to care. "Go ahead, MC," Diavolo licked his lips, "touch yourself for me." You bucked your hips against your hand when your fingers finally found their home on your neglected clit. "Dia!" You moaned out rubbing swift circles around your puffy nub. Diavolo grabbed the back of your thigh and pulled your leg back to get a better view of how your hole throbbed looking for something to plug it. Diavolo ran is large fingers around your hole, dipping the tips in teasingly just to test how tight you were. You moaned for him, your pussy making sloppy sounds as you rubbed your clit faster. "So gorgeous," Diavolo said mesmerized by how your fingers danced through your folds. His thumb held one of your pussy lips open so he could get a better look at how wet you actually were for him.

"You," you moaned out, "you can finger me if you want." Diavolo could feel the hot blood pooling in his crotch at your debauched words. His innocent little MC was asking him, him to finger them? How could he say no to such a sweet request? Diavolo dropped your leg to hold your other pussy lip open while his other hand went to work rubbing at your throbbing hole. He ran the tip of his middle finger around the outside of your pussy hole, watching how it tried to grab onto him and pull his finger in. He then dipped a finger into you, careful not to be too forceful. The sound you made was like music to his ears. Diavolo swore he could hear a choir of angels coming from your mouth. He ran his middle finger along your gummy walls that he so longed to feel. You clenched around his finger, pulling the digit in further. Diavolo chuckled at how desperate your pussy ached to be filled. The pad of his finger ran all along your walls until he found that ribbed spot at the top of your pelvis. He pressed down experimentally causing your hips to raise and you to hump against his hand in pleasure. "Look at you," Diavolo hummed, "you're being so good." You whined at his praise while your fingers went back to work rubbing at your clit. Diavolo rubbed firm circles against your G-spot watching how your pussy throbbed and twitched in pleasure. Soon, he felt your hole tighten before a loud moan tore from your throat. Your thighs quivered and your fingers sped up chasing the highest point of your orgasm before they slowed down then stopped altogether. Juices pooled beneath your butt staining the silken sheets beneath you. Your chest was heaving from the wonderful orgasm your lover had so helped you achieve but Diavolo wasn't done just yet. He continued rubbing at your G-Spot, making you whine and twitch in over-stimulation. You pressed your hand to his face not sure if you were trying to push him away or hold onto him. He swiftly took your wet fingers into his mouth, tasting your sweet juices against your skin. Your other hand came to hold onto his horn, hoping to ground yourself in someway.

Diavolo added another finger, scissoring your hole open before going back to abusing your G-Spot. You couldn't control how your hips twitched, bucked, and moved on their own against Diavolo's sweet torturous fingers. "Dia," you moaned out, "I have to pee!" You continued humping his fingers but despite your warning, Diavolo didn't let up. His pupils blew wide at what you had just said and his fingers worked faster. He pulled your own fingers from his mouth so his lips could wrap around your twitching clit. You yelped in sensitivity as both of your hands held, firmly onto Diavolo's horns. Your body felt hotter at the messy slurping sounds your boyfriend was making against your juicy cunt. Your body started spasming and Diavolo took that as his cue. He pulled his mouth away from your clit, holding his mouth open in front of your pussy. Suddenly a scream was pulled from your lips as juices erupted from your cunt, painting Diavolo's face in your orgasm. He did his best catching as much of your squirt as he could in his mouth but most of it landed on his face. His fingers slowed down, letting you ride out your orgasm until he pulled them out. He took note of how pruned his fingers were due to your sopping juices coating them.

You could only lie there trying to catch your breath. Did you just squirt? Your eyes snapped open to see Diavolo's face coated in a slick liquid. "MC," he growled, licking your essence from his lips. "Dia!" You yelped, "I'm sorry I-" "I want you speared on my cock." Your abused cunt throbbed once again at his words making you twitch. "If I could," Diavolo said climbing over you, "I would have you like that all the time. Every morning I'd eat that delicious cunt until you squirted all over me just like that." "Diavolo," you breathlessly moaned at his words. His cock rested heavily against your pubic mound making you jolt your hips up.

"Dia," you gasped, "g-give me a second!" Diavolo nodded resting his face against your neck. You could feel your juices leaving a damp mark on your skin where he rested. His firm hands gripped your hips, rubbing soft and gentle circles against your skin. Did you really just squirt? Not only that but did you really just squirt on Diavolo Prince of the Devildom's face while he finger fucked you? Your life had gotten so much more strange and wonderful since your time here. You ran your fingers through his crimson hair with your other arm draped over his shoulder. If you closed your eye for a second you could pretend that you had died and gone to heaven. Your heart rate started to steady and your cunt started to awaken once more, ready to take whatever Diavolo was going to put inside it.

"I think-" you thought for a second then spoke again, "I'm ready to go again." Diavolo kissed up your neck, sucking in the tender skin before pulling back to look at your debauched form. "My sweet MC," Diavolo hummed before grabbing your thighs to pull around his waist, "you give me so much." You reached your hands up to wrap around his neck while his cock dragged lazily through your sloppy folds. You could feel the heat buzzing off of him like a furnace. His head caught your sensitive clit a couple times making you gasp and moan out his name. "Put it in me," you whined, desperate to finally have your boyfriend fill you. "Fuck, say that again," Diavolo cursed under his breath. You humped his manhood as it rubbed against your juicy cunt, "please Diavolo. I want it in me." Diavolo leaned down to your ear, nibbling the edge of the shell before speaking directly into it. "What do you want in you, darling?" You felt embarrassed saying it out loud but did so anyway, "I want your cock in me, Dia." Diavolo growled into your ear before pulling his hips back and easing his glorious manhood into you. Your eyebrows furrowed as your mouth gaped open at the feeling of being so stretched out. You're glad Diavolo had prepped you so well to take him. You were sure that he would not have been able to go in without a little bit of fingering before hand.

Inch by inch, Diavolo pushed inside of you until he felt you could take no more. Your walls pulsed and quivered around his cock, sucking him in so greedily. Diavolo felt that he could die then and there and have fulfilled his life goals. He wanted to start rutting into you like a wild beast. He could imagine how your body would flop around like ragdoll around his mighty cock but Diavolo had to be careful. If he was to rough with your fragile human form he could seriously injure you. He hissed when he dragged his cock out of your warm cunt, your walls sliding along his girth so wonderfully. A soft moan of his name passed your lips while he gently thrusted back into your accommodating pussy. He held your thighs in a vice like grip, the fat squishing under his fingers in such a delicious way. Although Diavolo could never gain access, he assumed this is what heaven felt like. Your soft and pliable body laying beneath him so willing to take his cock in any way you can.

"MC," Diavolo groaned at how you squeezed his cock, "may I kiss you?" You nodded eagerly at his request leaning your head back to open yourself up for his lips. Diavolo found his mouth against yours in a soft yet passionate kiss. He drank in every sound, every moan, every mumble of his name you'd give him. Soon, his pace sped up to a more steady rhythm of thrusting in and out of your hole. Your wet pussy made sloppy, sopping sounds with every entrance of his cock into you. Your nails dug into the muscle of his back as he pushed your legs up towards your chest in order to better angle his cock into you. Diavolo pulled from the kiss, enjoying the string of saliva that came with him and the fucked out look on your face. You were panting and moaning with your eyes glossed over with a look of lust. Diavolo took a picture of you with his mind hoping to save this moment into his memory for all eternity. "You look-" Diavolo grunted when you squeezed him just right, "you look so beautiful like this." You moaned out his name trying to kiss him once again. Instead, Diavolo dove to your neck taking the skin between his lips and sucking. He trailed kisses up and down the side of your neck, sucking, biting, then licking over where he bit.

If you were in a less lust filled state you'd have to worry about hiding the hickies Diavolo left tomorrow but that would most likely hurt his feelings. Diavolo wanted to mark you. He wanted all of the three realms to know who you laid with and who you belonged to. He wanted everyone to know who finally corrupted the sweet, innocent human. You were finally all his now.

Diavolo pulled back from your neck to admire the series of marks he had left. Your hands laid by your head taking fistfuls of the pillows behind you while your face was contorted into a grimace of absolute pleasure. Diavolo was torn between wishing he could show all of the Devildom how well he fucked you and keeping your expressions all for himself. He dropped one of your legs and snaked his hand to your clit, rubbing circles on the erect nub. You gasped out moans at the feeling of being both so full and so over-stimulated with pleasure. Diavolo's eyes never left your face drinking in every expression, every moan, every furrow of your eyebrows and every whine you made. Oh, how he loved when you would whimper let out from being so thoroughly fucked out on his cock.

Diavolo gave you a sharp thrust that made your back arch and to his amazement, you managed to take all of his cock. "Look at that," Diavolo growled speeding up his ministrations on your clit, "such a greedy little hole. You took all of me like a champ." You opened your eyes to stare at Diavolo's love struck face. His eyes were now trained on where you two connected and how your pussy sucked him in.

"Your-" you gasped out, "you're so big!" Diavolo's hips faltered for a minute before resuming their usual pace.

"Does it hurt?"

"It feels so good! I love you, I love you, I love you-"

You were cut off by a sharp thrust to your G-Spot and a lewd moan leaving your mouth. Diavolo chuckled pushing both of your thighs up as far as they could go, essentially putting you in a mating press. You were bewildered by how much your body could take. Diavolo leaned into you as much as he could without crushing you. Your smaller body took him so well in ways he could have never imagined. The pleasure was building inside of him.

"My love," Diavolo moaned into your ear making goosebumps rise on your skin, "can I cum inside you?"

You shivered at his words and nodded. "I need to hear you say it," Diavolo kissed up your face to your temple. Your soft skin was like the very cloud of heaven under his lips.

"Dia," you managed to moan out, "please! Please cum in me! I want you so bad-" You were cut off by a particularly sharp thrust that made you let out a sob. Diavolo would have those words replaying in his head for the next millennia.. His sweet, innocent human was under him begging for his cum deep inside their hole. Diavolo growled sinking his teeth into your shoulder while his gave one final, deep thrust. Warmth like you had never felt before pooled in your womb. Your lower body felt like it was on fire. More of his cum started spilling out as it became too much for your body to hold. You could hear Diavolo's moans through the mouthful of your skin he had in his mouth. Finally, his horns retreated back into his skull as his wings shrunk into his back.

Your lover pulled back to look at his handy work. Your puffy abused cunt was leaking cum onto the sheets below despite him still being fully sheathed inside you. His thumb came to rub circles on your clit once more making you jolt and let out a sharp moan. Your body twitched and writhed until finally cumming around his cock. Your walls twitched and sucked in as much of his dick as it could. Diavolo shuddered at the feeling of your gummy walls constricting around him. Your poor pussy dribbled juices, too spent to squirt again.

"Oh, my love," Diavolo purred, "you are so wonderful." He leaned down to pepper kisses across your face making you laugh. "Dia!" Diavolo pressed his forehead to yours. "You look so beautiful like this," Diavolo hummed, "I wish we could stay like this forever." Your walls pulsed around his cock making him groan. "We can," you started, "we can stay like this for a little while." Diavolo smiled at your shy expression, "you want to warm my cock for me, hm?" You tried to look away, embarrassed from his words but still, you nodded. Diavolo captured your lips in a short but loving kiss. "I wouldn't have it any other way, MC."

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