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thesummerpetrichor · 1 year

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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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themissinghand · 1 month

Note

Mind if I could have a SAGAU request? So the player is burnt out from the game. Like completely. Some characters find a way to your desktop and ask "Why haven't you entered Teyvat lately?" After explaining that you still like/love them, they are disappointed but understandable. Problem is, they can't go back until you launch the game. So the characters sort of become desktop buddies (Showing my age aren't I?) and perhaps helping you out in the various other games the player would play or just vibing as you surf the web, make arr, write stories, etc. As for the characters... Aether and Paimon at least, though adding Kazuha, Yanfei, Freminet, Bennett, Fischl, Childe, and Collei would be cute too.

Genshin Impact Desktop Buddies

Summary: In which your favourite Genshin characters miss you.

Or now you have them as your desktop buddies until Genshin Impact is fixed.

Pairings: Aether & Paimon, Kazuha, Yanfei, Childe and Fischl x Neutral! Reader!

Note: Desktop buddies are ancient now lol, but honestly such a cool thing to have back then. Hope you enjoy!

Warning: None, just fluffy goodness.

★・・・・・・★

You’re tired. Like really tired.

Grinding for artifacts, ascension and weapon materials has worn you out. That includes your wallet too.

They were worth it, no doubt about that, but staring at a screen all day every day could tire anyone out.

And yea, you need sleep.

For the first time in a long time, you decided to shut down the game, and take at least a few day break.

It’s not like it would make a big difference right?

Little did you know, it most definitely would.

Just a few days later, not only did your laptop started acting weird to the point where you thought of buying a new one, Genshin also disappeared from your desktop.

Before you knew it, you see little figures that look oddly familiar on your screen…

“Why haven’t you entered Teyvat lately?”

Aether & Paimon

The player spun around, eyes widening at the sight of Aether and Paimon now out of the game, and...hopping around on your screen.

"Aether? Paimon? How... how are you here?".

Aether stepped forward.

"Our Creator, we've missed you. The others are worried. Why haven't you been to Teyvat?"

You sighed, has it already been a couple of days? Also, since when were you their creator?

"I'm just a little tired-” There was a dramatic gasp from Paimon.

“Tired of us? Aether! Our Creator is tired of us!”

“No! I mean, I still love Teyvat and all of you, but I needed a break and I will go back soon." You quickly responded with reassurance, which luckily appeased the floating companion.

Paimon floated closer, which was like a weird zoom on her face, her eyes softening with understanding.

"We get it, but... we can't go back to Teyvat until you' launch' the game." She says robotically, but appeared confused right after.

“Ah, okay. Give me a minute.”

When you tried to download the game via the Genshin website, it stated that there was a website maintenance.

“Creator! What is happening? The world is changing!” While you were frustrated, Aether and Paimon were jumping and flying everywhere around your screen, exploring how tabs open and following your mouse as you click and hover.

Their curiosity made you smile, and you slowly explain how everything works slowly as with each passing second, they marvel at how advanced your world is.

“No wonder you’re our Creator!”

“What’s this!?” Before you knew it, you pulled up multiple websites, and the one you landed on was Disney+.

“Do you want to watch a movie?”

“What’s that?” Aether asked, curious, followed by Paimon’s cute little head tilt.

(You wished you could just squeeze those cute little cheeks-)

“It’s like telling a story, but you get to see it unfold right before you. Here.” You pull up ‘My Little Mermaid’ and they jump seeing the video move, with everyone inside move.

“Woah…it’s like another world!”

Aether seemed to marvel over it, and for a moment, he wondered, maybe, you could traverse worlds too.

Seeing the stars in their eyes made you feel guilty, as if another misunderstanding arose, but you let them be, as their cute little figures sat down and watched the movie.

You too, watched it with them, and for the first time in a while, you didn’t feel lonely.

Throughout the movie, you patted them on the head with your mouse, which the two seemed to like very much.

(And yes, you did pinch those cute little cheeks)

Kazuha

“I’m glad that you didn’t abandon us, Your Highness.”

Never in your wildest dreams did you expect to see THE Canadian Aether, Kazuha, on your screen, bowing respectfully to you.

“Let me know if I can help you in any way. Although my form is…not in the most helpful form, I will do my best.”

You held back a giggle when you saw a shy little Kazuha looking at himself and then at you shyly, and you really wanted to tease him, but you chose not to.

Instead, you pull up your incomplete art project.

Might as well since you can’t download Genshin now and might have to wait for a few days.

“Actually Kazuha, I was hoping you could help me finish my art.” He immediately perked up, a serious expression overtook his shy one.

“Of course, Your Highness, let me know what you want to draw and I can help you!”

“Great! I’m trying to draw a handsome and cute man, he has platinum blond hair…” Slowly, you list one by one, the characteristics of the person you want to draw.

Kazuha learns fast. Soon, he was able to figure out how your art platform worked.

At first, he hesitated, and didn’t want to interrupt your drawing, but slowly, he learned to add in his thoughts and feedback, and guided your mouse to smooth out the lines, and perfect the colouring.

“He has red eyes…”

Calming and soothing, his voice made you feel at peace, just like how you would hang out with him at the top of a mountain somewhere and listening to the game music.

But this time, he was a little closer, where he felt more real albeit still in your screen.

“Your Highness…isn’t this…me?” His little cheeks was dusted with pink as he quickly covered it with his hands.

“It is you.”

“But why…”

“Because you’re one of my favourites, Kazuha.”

It was all it took for him to become shy again, and he began to cough awkwardly as if to mask his embarrassment.

“Thank you…Your Highness.”

Yanfei

“Phew! We were so scared that you left us Your Eminence! But…I suppose we can’t do anything until you open up Teyvat again, until then, let me know if I can help you!”

Yanfei's cheerful voice made you smile as you leaned against your palm.

Then she turned around, as if taking in her surroundings before looking back at you.

“Your Eminence, if I may, may I help you organize your…space?” You blink, and that was when you notice the amount of files littered across the desktop screen, and you realized that from Yanfei’s view, it must’ve been very unorganized.

“Sure.”

Yanfei brightens at your acceptance, and hopped a little to show her excitement.

“Okay! I’m good at this, so leave it to me! Just follow my lead.”

You were gonna clean up your PC eventually, though you did not expect it would be today.

Either way, Yanfei was like a referee and a police, asking questions but also making sure everything was organized correctly.

In a way, Yanfei felt like a Mom asking her child to clean her room.

Even so, it was so cute to see her marching everywhere like a soldier and asking you to organize it in a neat manner.

“Okay, next, let’s organize this folder!”

“Okay-” Before you knew it, you immediately hit backspace.

“Your Eminence…who was that-”

“Let’s move on.” But Yanfei stared at that folder with an intense stare. Did she see it?

With a little nudge and push with your mouse, Yanfei eventually moved on, but she constantly had a smile on her lips.

It was you cosplaying as her for an event.

Yanfei would be sure to tell her friends back home.

Childe

“Well, I’m happy to hear that, Your Highness! But…what were you doing? Away from Teyvat?”

Childe’s smile was a little bit menacing to look at, so you pull up what you were doing before to distract him.

And it did, surprisingly.

“What is this?”

“It’s a game called Valorant.”

You start the game, and once you get prepared, he too was locked in.

With each attack and maneuver, Childe slowly became hyped up by your skill and admired it.

“Your Highness! Why didn’t you tell me before?!” He became to gush, albeit trying to remain civil as he looked between you and your character in game.

“Again.” In the end, he asked (begged) for another show.

This time, you changed your agent to someone else, and once again, showed how skilled you are even in melee, which Childe initially advised against.

But you blew his expectations away.

“Your Highness, can I duel you?”

You blink, before you laugh jokingly, but you knew in real life, Childe would absolutely crush you.

But you leave him be, and instead start another game.

Honestly, Childe would be a great hype man.

Fischl

“Ah, of course! How the stars seem to be against us this time…regardless! With me, Fischl von Luftschloss Narfidort here, there is nothing you need to worry about!”

As expected, Fischl is quite the actor and storyteller as she spews on about how she faced something similar before, something just as interstellar as this.

You don’t mind it, after all, if you did, you wouldn’t have Fischl on your team the entire time would you?

Fischl deserves more love is what you find in the fandom, and while she may be annoying at times, you found her passion admirable, and even a little sad when you think this is her way of happiness.

So you respected that, and listened as she rambled on, and moved as if she was on the stage.

Perhaps…she would do good on stage with Furina in Fontaine.

“Fischl, I do need your help on something.” You asked when she finally finished, and she straightened herself with grace as expected from the Prinzessin der Verurteilung.

“I need your help with my stories. I want you to create elaborate and dramatic narratives for everyone to love.” She froze for a moment, but her grin immediately hid her surprise.

“Why of course, I would be delighted. Allow me!” With just a few seconds to think, she immediately began her storytelling.

With her little graceful steps and hops, she almost dances away, but she doesn’t stop sharing her fantasy story full of magic, fate, and stars.

It was hard to keep up, but you didn’t want to disappoint her, so you did your best to type her word by word.

Luckily, she seemed to slow down to match your pace, as if the two of you were a duet with the piano and violin.

When she stops, you end off the story with a dramatic click, and you match her prideful smile.

Truly, Fischl is a character not everyone can handle, but that’s alright.

After all, you love her for who she is, and maybe, Fischl appreciated that more than anything else.

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twisted-wonderland-but-gayer · 11 months

Note

kinda part 2 of the suicidal yuu thing, uhhhh that is a request?? kinda??? i really want to here your thoughts about it and one of the reasons why i sent it to you is because i think you have something amazing to add. (also because i love sad yuu)

Missing Yuu

How they mourn over the loss of their best friend— I kinda inspired/off topic sorry

TWs: GN Yuu. Mostly platonic Some have romantic subtexts like pining and such. In Vils, Jamils, and Idia’s it is implied more explicitly that Yuu took their own life. There are references to songs and movies from Yuus world, specifically Ponyo Time/Space +Mary by Alex G and BaBopByeYa by Janelle Monae. Game refernced but theyre listed in Idias section. (Also for any nerds ik that isnt how MKW’s ghost data works but shhh imagine the angst,

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul thought he was done mourning. It’s been years since you died, he actually remembers that entire month vividly to this day. How he was in his office, sorting through some papers and awaiting his tea from Jade. It took longer than expected. He would surely accept this from Floyd, but Jade of all mer? Disgruntledly, Azul gets off and goes out to look for the eel. He was only a few steps out of his office when he hears some faint sobbing. Oh dear, that's not good for business…

“Yer lying!” Floyd sobs as Jade holds onto his brother with a particularly grim expression, everyone in the lounge gone silent, each patron not daring to disturb the conversation unfolding out of pity. “Floyd, there is no reason to be mad at Deuce, he’s only the messenger.” “What’s going on here?” Azul asked sternly, getting ready to shoo out the Heartslabyul member. “Ah, there you are Azul.” The spade said, with defeat in his voice.

Nothing Deuce said registered in his head the minute he heard ‘Yuu is dead’. The words strung together were incomprehensible to him. Yuu? Gone? As if! That little prefect was always in everyone’s business! They went up against blots for the sevens sake! They couldn't be dead! But as Deuce continued to speak, the reality started to set in as they handed Azul a small box. “They wanted you to have this.”

The Lounge was closed for a few weeks afterward, the entire school seemed to be in shock. That entire month he couldn't even think right, his mind seemingly blocking out the existence of the prefect he grew to adore. It was only when he saw the twins mourning in their own ways, did it remind him. How Floyd would always keep the handmade eel plush Yuu made on his person, keeping it in the best condition possible despite his messy personality. Jade had a new accessory on his person as well, a small bag shaped like a Fly Agaric mushroom, it went with him everywhere even if it wasn't the most practical. In the gardens, Azul found himself wandering over to your small plot, where you kept your own crops, sitting next to Jade as he continued to care for your plants after your passing.

It was because of you, did he and the tweels he worked alongside closely become friends after all these years. A few years ago he couldn't even imagine seeing them as such, they were merely business partners, a means to an end. Yet now the three of them actually hang out or just… talk.

When he is alone at night does his mind wander as he opens the beat-up box to look at his own gift, memories flooding in from the device in hand…

You were in the VIP room, he doesn’t even remember why, when he heard you reference a few movies from your world. “It was good I ended up being summoned with some of my things, I honestly don't know what I’d do without anything from my world, especially my comfort shows.” They mentioned offhand, chopping it up with Floyd.

“Though we don't have mermaids in my world, we do have a lot of TV shows about them. I wonder how they hold up here?” Azul continued to scribble on his papers as he eavesdropped. “Oh, I know! What if we have a sleepover and binge-watch some of them, maybe you guys can rate how accurate or offensive they are!” Floyd practically squealed with glee at the idea, and he knew he had no choice in the matter.

It was the end of senior year now, and he was packing his things to head to his home in the Coral Sea. He also never thought he would go back there too, but he supposed spending some time with his family should do some good. As he packed everything out of his safe, he examined the box that he was given on that fateful day, old and torn up, and he opened it up again.

An alien laptop attached to a projector was inside. On a piece of paper were the password and log in. It was also ironically one of his best projects to demonstrate his magic comprehension. One of his finals was to prove he knew how to do a proper protection spell, and what better to protect than one of his most prized possessions, more valuable than the coins he loved to collect?

Azul remembers the praise he was given by one of the professors that visited NRC. The spell was one of the most powerful he’s ever seen! Not even a fingerprint could be left on the thing, and it was completely waterproof as well! But what was he wasn't expecting to be praised for was the device itself. “Now did you make this thing, Mr.Ashengrotto? I must say it is quite impressive! I have never seen this sort of technology before!”

The mage was blindsided by the praise, not even knowing how to react. He wanted to stop the professor, correct him, say that his friend was the one who made it, but the words seemed to die on his tongue. If he talks about you right now, he would cry, and if he cries that means you mattered to him, and he still doesn’t know how to feel about that. He didn’t even call you his friend when you were alive, calling such a term now seemed unfair. And yet you were. You are arguably the first friend he ever had. The first friend the trio even had, and he didn't even have the courage to consider you one until you died.

Azul held onto the box as he and his friends pass through the mirror, promising to all meetup and hang out again soon as they made their way home. His mother was the first to greet him in a tight hug as she rambled on about how much she missed him and how proud she was of him, how she made his favorite, and how she can't wait to celebrate his graduation. His grandmother greeted him from the kitchen as he and his stepfather carried in the few boxes he took with him back to his room.

His mother soon came in to help him unpack, and she stumbled across the old torn box from earlier. Azul didn't even realize she opened it until he heard it open and a familiar tune played.

Ponyo, Ponyo, Ponyo, Little fishie in the sea~

Tiny little fishie, who could you really be?~

Ponyo, Ponyo, Ponyo, magic sets you free~

“Ahahaha! Is this some sort of kid's show, shrimpy?” “Hey! Ponyo is for all ages, firstly! Secondly, it's my favorite movie and it's mermaid themed!” The prefect defended themselves from Floyd's teasing. Azul chuckled in agreement with Floyd's words as he made himself comfortable on the couch with Jade. “Well so far there is nothing offensive in this movie, however, I do find it offensive that you see us as children, Yuu.”

“I don’t! Im just trying to show you my favorite movie first!” Yuu bit back at Jade's snark as the tune plays, the prefect messing with the computer and the projector attached to it to project it onto the white curtains of their dorm. Azul never expected to even care about some stupid kid's movie, yet as it drew out he was completely invested. The brightly colored film even manages to keep Floyd enraptured until the end. Jade commented on how much of a delight it was.

They continued into the night, watching show after show, some corny, some fun. “This is far from accurate!” Azul huffs, “People actually watch this where you're from?” “H2O Just Add Water was a big deal for a while actually!” “I’m curious prefect, is this how you thought mers were?” Jade teased, leading to another mini-argument.

“Haha! Imagine if we actually turned into mermaids if we touch water though! That would be funny~” Floyd chuckled, reaching onto the table filled with food and snacks and shoving a handful of candy into his mouth. The atmosphere was lively, and the night was perfect, he had never been so relaxed before, especially around his dormmates, it felt almost domestic in a way— was this what it was like to have friends?

The very next day it was back to normal, but that stupid little movie kept playing in his mind. He would rather die than admit it was his new favorite movie, however, but it seems Yuu always knew. Their gift proved that.

Azul seemed to freeze in place as the sound from the laptop continued. “Son?” His stepfather asked as he watch the mer shake. He thought he was done mourning. A sudden sob of anguish escaped his throat as he nearly screamed, years of guilt and sadness coming out all at once. Azul sobbed into his parent's arms, choking back sobs as he apologized, stuttering out gibberish as he inked. He never told them about you, he never even told him about his overblot, but tonight, he will, you would have wanted him to heal.

Ponyo, Ponyo, Ponyo, Little fishie in the sea~

Tiny little fishie, who could you really be?~

Ponyo, Ponyo, Ponyo, magic sets you free~

Oh pretty fishie, will you swim back to me?~

Jamil Viper

His parents never gave him the time to mourn, even when Kalim told them it was okay. “You need to watch over him!” His mother scolded. “He is our employer's son! If anything happens to him—“ Jamil blanked out at the rest, his mind immediately shutting when he was getting yelled at for the sin of grief. If he wasn’t so exhausted, he would have probably yelled at them. Actually, he wished he did, it’s what you would have wanted for him.

Jamil never expected to be so close to you of all people, and he especially never expected you to understand him. But, you did. In fact, you stood up for him. He remembers how you would often distract Kalim for his sake, allowing him to get some much-needed rest from being at his beck and call 24/7. You helped him with his chores as well. He doesn’t even remember when you officially became his friend, it just felt so natural.

Finally, after all of these years, he had someone that cared about him, that listened to him, that understood him. He could never confide in anyone until you came around. He remembers vividly talking about his parents off-hand while you were in his room. He didn’t mean to vent about them, you just asked how they were doing since they sent him a letter and it all came out.

They barely even wrote to him, they only asked about Kalim, it's like he doesn't even exist! They don’t do this to Namja, not that they should, he loves his sister, but it is just so… frustrating. It’s just like he's just an extension of someone else!

He didn’t even realize he was crying until you put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m… I’m sorry.” Jamil whispered. “Don’t be.” You smiled at him, a warm, genuine understanding smile. You didn’t speak as he vented, and you didn’t try to offer solutions or pity, you just listened and validated him, the very first and only person who has ever done that. The topic soon changed to music, he thinks it's because you brought up some of the headphones he had in his room, and you both exchanged your opinions on the subject.

“The music here is so similar yet so different from my world, it's good don't get me wrong, it's just… strange.” “What is the music from your world like?” He asked as you swung your legs on the edge of your bed. “Uhh, what's genre you like? I’ll try to find something similar on here.” You held up your phone as Jamil started describing music he listened to.

After a moment, a song played from your phone. Beautifully unique instrumental unlike anything he's ever heard started playing. He started to understand what you mean by similar but different. The singer began to vocalize, but the words were utterly incomprehensible, the language unlike anything he has heard.

“Oh right, I forgot, language barrier, different dimensions, hold on!” The student took off the enchanted necklace given to them at the beginning of the year and handed it to him. Jamil hesitantly took it, clasping it around his neck. The minute it clasped around him, the lyrics suddenly started making sense.

I hear echoes of your laughter

In the corners of my mind

As I memorize each detail of your intricate design

In your hair, there is symphony

Your lips, a string quartet

They tell stories of the neon valley street where we first met

Now somewhere time pursues us

As we love in technicolor

But I dwell in silence of your words that move me like none other

This time I shall be unafraid

And violence will not move me

This time we will relax

This time we will stay in our movie

“Woah…” Jamil whispers. “I know trippy right?” You asked the interdimensional gibberish from their lips suddenly making sense. “Hearing you speak my language sounds so surreal, it suits you though!” You smile. “Oh if you like this song, I know another one you're gonna love!”

You were such a great friend, you still did everything you could for him despite your own situation, so he reciprocated. You couldn’t eat today because Crowley had you run all his errands? Good thing he made an extra lunch today, for no reason of course. No time to study because of that overblot that happened? Oh no, it sure would be a shame if his old graded assignments with the correct answers written on them got mixed up in your stuff.

He didn’t explicitly state his intentions, it would take him a while for him to truly open up and say what he meant because of his upbringing, but you didn't care. You understood. And he was here for you the same way you were there for him. When you complained about your master's most recent demands, he was there to listen the same you did when he complained about his.

He was devastated when he heard the news of your death. If it wasn’t for years of keeping his composure, he would have fallen apart then and there. He felt sick, the earth was suddenly spinning around him. Everything Crowley announced after was a blur, Jamil didn’t even realize Crowley was talking to him until he said his name for the third time. A small box was held out to him, note attached to it in Yuu’s handwriting.

Jamil took the box and continued to stare off into space until the announcements came to a close. Kalim was inconsolable as they walked back to the dorm. Kalim wiped his tears holding onto his own box, and both wordlessly went into their rooms, needing time for themselves. The minute the door shut behind him, Jamil let out a cry of pure agony, collapsing onto his bed as he wept.

For the next few weeks, Kalim tried his best to not rely on Jamil, even ordering him to take a vacation though he didn't have the power to do so, it was ultimately up to his family. Still, Jamil appreciated the sentiment. Kalim would try to cook for himself and do his own makeup, even if it wasn't the best. It was ironic that even in death you continued to help with Kalim, your death making Kalim more independent, and mending their relationship by proxy

Jamil hadn’t opened the box yet, nor read the note. He hasn't had the courage to, but tonight was different. He opened the small box, peering at the device inside. It was an MP3 player of sorts, he assumed, along with a pair of high-quality earbuds. His eyes watered too much to read the note properly, but he did see the password to the device. Pulling out the device, he noticed that the necklace Yuu used was also in the box.

Jamil clipped the necklace onto himself and entered the password. He placed the earbuds into his ears and swiped through the device. He paused as he saw the albums you created for yourself with all sorts of names. Study Playlist, Rock, Love Songs and Pining, and one simply titled For Jamil.

He shakily tapped on it. More tears rolled down his cheeks as he scrolled through all of the songs you put in it, all of them songs of genres or vibes you thought he would have loved. It would be too much to listen to it right now. He tapped back to the list of albums and kept scrolling though, abruptly stopping at one album.

This Time I’m Really Gonna Do It, it was titled. He tapped on it and immediately started the playlist. Most songs were about loneliness, homesickness, derealization, self-harm. Jamil sat, hunched over, laser-focused on the lyrics of each song.

Mary is the one that leaves you to rot.

She says I am real and you are not.

She says

I am real

And you are not…

Jamil began to sob again as he listened as it all sunk in for him. You were gone, and for the entire time you were here, this is how you felt. You were always there for him. You always comforted him. And he couldn’t do the same for you. If he was just there a little more, if he just truly asked and truly listened would you still be here? If he asked about your family and your home, would you have been able to find it easier here? If he were more honest…. As he sobbed another song started playing, lyrics resonating deep within him as it played.

Hold on tight to this time this place,

Cause everything you know will be erased.

You were born inside your head.

And that is where you’ll go when you are dead.

Vil Shoenheit

When he received the news of your passing, he decided to take a break from the spotlight, announcing his hiatus to his manager and his social media. He was less strict in ruling dorm, and much more forgiving of Epel's outburst of rage, knowing that he was mourning in his own way. Rook was a blessing with how much he understood and stepped up to give Vil a break, an unspoken thank you between the two of them.

Vil kept you in his mind while doing everything for a while. Even as he applied his skincare he found his mind explaining it to himself as if it was his first time. He imagined explaining the process to the overworked prefect who seemed to never have enough time to care for their skin, or afford it. “Now exfoliate gently in circles like so,” his mind would say, and he would close his eyes and pretend he was doing it to you. He never even got the chance to gift you the cleanser he made for you.

As he prepares his salads, he finds himself making an extra one on the side. He remembers how you would occasionally complain about skipping meals because of Crowley, and he would imagine that if you were still here, he would have given the meal to you while lightly scolding you.

When he applies his makeup, he experiments slightly in the way you would. You seldom wore makeup with how busy your schedule was. The few times he saw you with it, he remembered you mentioning that one of your friends did it for you. If you were given the materials and time, how would you have applied it? Would you use a brush or sponge for your foundation? Perhaps your eyeliner would follow the trends from your world?

As he led his club, he remembered what you would mention about the shows from your world and how you viewed magic from an Outlander's perspective. He found himself looking at some of the graphic novels and manga from your world that you lent him before you passed. You said they were made into movies, some good but most bad. As he flipped the pages he saw the sticky notes you wrote on each one, translating the foreign language for him. Your handwriting was comforting.

He wondered which one of these were your favorite as he read, admiring the storylines. How did movies work where you were from? Did you miss them? This comics would make for a good one, maybe he can direct one based on them…

Vil didn’t want to use social media, but he opened it up to go and find yours. Going onto some of the freshman’s socials, he found you in their followers. You were a private account, and he couldn’t see any of your posts. He mindlessly requested a follow, not expecting to be let in immediately— you must have already been following him, and he couldn't help but go through your entire account.

You didn’t follow a lot of people, and only your friends along with a few bots followed you. Most of the posts were of photos around NRC or of friends along with some inside jokes. Some posts consisted of memes or images that weren’t like anything of that of his world, captions talking about how much you miss home. The horrible realization of you being an Outlander seemed to sink in even more at the caption. No one here truly knew you, you had very few to remember you. Your family will never even know what happened to you, that you died. Vil shut off his phone, regretting his decision to reopen Magicam.

The Dormleader even found himself eating a bit unhealthily, in moderation of course. He remembered how you would practically shove everything down your throat before having to go off and do your next task without any etiquette whatsoever. He even remembers Epel saving up to buy junk food and sweets to give to you as gifts. Apparently, you couldn't afford them or had nothing like them in your world. He even remembers the captions of you complaining of only eating one thing all day and such.

He requested Epel to tell him some of your favorite desserts you enjoyed or the ones he planned on getting for you, perhaps he could understand you more if he ate them, or perhaps consume them for you since you never got the opportunity to enjoy them. Epel had no use for his gifts anymore, so he shoved most of them into the communal fridge.

In one of his runs, Vil noticed that the freshman’s mood seemed to sour more as his phone continued to ping. “Epel. Your phone. Either turn it on silent or respond.” Vil reprimanded. “Ugh, I can't! They keep finding me on everythin’! Even harrasin’ my folks at home!” Vils brows knitted together, “What are you talking about?”

“Ever since you followed Yuu or something like that I’ve been getting a buncha DMs and stuff asking if I knew anything about you or who Yuu is to you, seriously it’s driving me insane! It's happening to Ace and the others too! Assholes doxxed me and even got my number so I can't just block em.” Epel wiped away a tear that threatened to fall. “Can't even be left alone to mourn…”

“Let me see them.” Vil opened Epel's social phone, seeing notification after notification pop up. Opening his social media, he saw that even with the restricted access and privating of his account, almost all of the comments were about him.

>Hey! Hey! Hey! Do you know Vil???

>Please DM me for an interview!

>Hello there Mr.Epel, do you know a person named Yuu?

>Do you know who Yuu is to Vil??? Are they like together or something???

The sight made Vil feel sick as he turned off the phone and handed it back to Epel. “I’ll take care of this Epel, I’m sorry you have to put up with this.” Vil knew making a simple announcement wouldn’t be enough. He sighs as he sends a message to his manager, requesting her to get him an interview.

***

Vil sits up straight on the seat across from the interviewer, going over introductions and greetings as the camera rolls, broadcasting everything live. The interview goes smoothly. Vil already has his answers to simple questions about his career memorized. “So, Vil, I’m sure you are aware of the recent news going on about who you followed.” Vil nods, throat suddenly going dry. “Yes, I didn’t know that it would blow up if I’m being honest.”

The interviewer laughs for a moment. “So who’s this ‘Yuu’ person now? It’s not every day you follow a private personal account, they anyone special?” Yes, yes they are Vil thinks. Vil takes a deep breath. “I actually want to address the recent drama regarding them,” Vil pauses to hold back a stutter, it was strange, why was he being so emotional now of all times?

“Yuu is…” There were so many ways to describe them, but nothing came out. “They are no longer with us. They have passed away recently and…” Vil wiped away tears forming in his eyes. “I want to ask everyone to please stop harassing everyone, they are all— we are all mourning their loss and…” Vil suddenly chokes back a sob, and the weight of it all suddenly starts to sink as grief envelops him. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m going to have to stop this interview here, I need… I need some time for myself…”

Vil stands up and goes off-screen, covering his mouth with his fist as he walks off. On the car ride back to NRC he hesitantly turns on his phone, looking at the notifications that pop up. Opening his Magicam, he looks through some of his comments, most of which are now apologies from overbearing fans and inquiries about his mental state. One notification stands out from the rest, a small red dot near his messages. Tapping on it he sees a DM from no other than Neige LeBlanche himself asking if he was alright and that he was always here for him.

“How could you forgive everyone around you for mistreating you?” The blond asked the prefect in front of them. “Everyone here has treated you horribly.” The prefect merely shrugged, “It’s much better to make a friend out of an enemy than to destroy them, after all my first meeting with Ace and Grim was far from perfect.” They chuckled before sipping on their drink as they sat across from the model. “If I started shutting out everyone because of a few bad experiences, I would have never met you. Besides, I can't let things get to me that easily!” The last part is now ironic as Vil reminisces.

Vil wiped another tear, before pressing accept on the DM request.

Idia Shroud

It was like it never happened. You were just offline, the Shroud reasoned upon seeing your profiles on everything no longer active. To an outsider, it was like Idia didn’t care, he continued on his computer without a tear shed.

To Ortho, however, it was obvious that everything he was doing was to preserve what was left of you. You were summoned with a few items, one of them being some portable gaming device that was now his. Idia remembers when you first showed it to him when he was curious about how games were from your world. He remembered you were a bit upset that you couldn't play a majority of the games together as it required two devices, and Idia being as tech savvy as he was merely snickered before hooking up the device to his computer and copying the files.

A bit of coding and emulating later, the young man now had an entire library of interdimensional games on his pc for him to enjoy, and now he can join your sessions online. From farming sims to FPS, he thoroughly enjoyed all of it, fascinated at how similar yet different everything is. Certain buttons are mixed up, common gaming terminology from his world wasn’t used.

He would often join you in all sorts of random games. Even games he never thought he would enjoy like that weird ‘Skate 3’, ‘Power Washing Simulator’, ‘Raft’, ‘Animal Crossing’ or even ‘Stardew Valley’. It was fun to visit your farm or island, or to skate with you, or even to power wash things. There were so many fun and unique games that your world had, and since your passing, he wanted to try and share it with everyone. He didn’t have time to mourn with how busy he was!

The games you brought over made him happy, and now he wanted to share that feeling with everyone else in a way to honor you. The media wondered why STYX of all companies started releasing a bunch of free games to download. The only thing they charged money for was the soundtrack, where all of the proceeds went to mental health and suicide prevention programs.

All the time he spent on his computer was him testing every game you had and adjusting them to work on these world’s devices with ease. Occasionally when he got to a game you especially adored, he would add a few features that he remembered you mentioning wishing were in it before uploading them. Each game's credits had you listed in them as one of the creators as well.

When he wanted to take a break, he ended up playing his new favorite game, Skate 3. He didn’t necessarily care about the gameplay however, rather it was a feature he learned about only after you died. Even when your friends were offline, their character would occasionally appear and skate with you. It was the only way he could ever hope of playing with you again, and every time he finds your character, he pretends that for a moment you are in your dorm on your couch hopping on with him.

He still on occasion opens your other games and cares for your Animal Crossing island, your Minecraft dog, or crops in Stardew Valley. Ortho would also occasionally play one of those multiplayer games with him too like Mario Party, Halo, Terraria, or Smash Bros. Ortho was mourning you as well, you were like another big sibling to them. He would still play the Minecraft world you all shared and visit your house, adding decorations to it as he progresses to include you in a way.

The kid hated whenever someone misinterpreted his brother's actions, often passionately correcting before getting emotional over the thought of what he was doing. He's preserving them, but why did he have to do so already? They were so young.

Idia was on the last few games he needed to upload. He looked over at one of the first games you introduced him to, an emulation of Mario Kart Wii.

“Yeah it’s pretty old but it’s pretty nostalgic to me. I used to play it with my family all the time! It’s one of my favorites! I managed to move all my ghost data onto here too! Still, hold the record!” You beamed proudly as you showed the two brothers. “Ah, you appreciate oldies too huh?” Yuu nods. “If only I downloaded more before I came here. I think you would have loved some of the classic games we had.”

Idia loaded up the game with you, hooking up your device to the big screen in his room so you could all play. Ortho grabbed his favorite controller, and you all chose your characters to race as. Sure, you had the home-field advantage, but he’s played tons of racing games before! He has this in the bag.

The pair never stood a chance. With every map, you seemed to know a perfect shortcut, a perfect glitch, a perfect setup to always come out in first place. Even when the two said you had to play fair and you complied, you still easily beat them both while humming the music under your breath. Yet despite the frustration, it was still fun, especially since you included Ortho in everything as well.

Idia loaded up the game again, for old time's sake. He didn’t put much thought into the map or character he chose, he was too busy imagining that day you all were together, laughing and exchanging the things you loved. Rainbow Road was loaded up, the hardest track in the game and your favorite one, he remembered how much you laughed at his misery when he played on it. A few extra carts appear in the track that weren't the bots he was playing against, they were translucent much like ghosts, and had names over each one.

One of them he recognized as yours. As he began, he saw the ghost carts glided across the road. It was then he realized that these were the previous top three records that were saved. Idia wasn’t thinking, as his competitive streak overtook him. In the very first round, he beat the one in third place, putting in his name ‘Gloomurai’. He played a few more times, each time optimizing his route and techniques to get faster with each run. He’d even watch your racer’s techniques so he could copy.

After what felt like hours, he finally beat your character's time, and mentally celebrated when the option to put in his name popped up. The small smile on his face suddenly faded for a moment as he thought back to what you said. “I used to play with my family all the time!” You said. “It’s one of my favorites!”

Idia’s hands shook. When you showed him this game, it was obvious you adored it. He even caught you playing it by yourself a lot. Those other names, were they your family? Your friends? The realization hit him. This wasn’t your favorite game just because of nostalgia, it was because you still play with your family.

All those other ghosts he beat, they drove the exact same route, the exact same way your loved ones did and he overwrote them, and now, he overwrote you on your favorite route. Not only did he get rid of you, but he got rid of the only trace you had of your old life. Panicking, Idia dove into the files of the game, looking through everything he could see if there was any way he could save your data, frantically scanning each line of code. He knew the answer in his head though, the minute that box popped up, it was deleted instantly.

Idia suddenly stopped, clenching his fists. He didn’t care that your ghost was probably on other tracks. That one was your favorite one. He got rid of you. He got rid of you on your favorite game. The sadness finally caught up to him, he was too exhausted to keep coding at this point.

“Idia?” Ortho called into his shared room with his brother. “Idia? Your heart rate is acting up on my scanner—“ Ortho creaked open the door to see his brother with his head in his hands, violently sobbing. “They’re gone.” He mutters. “They’re gone.” Ortho shut the door behind him, floating over to where his brother was, and pulls him down to hug him. “It's okay,” the boy soothes. “They still live in you.”

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul ashengrotto #idia shroud #idia shroud x reader #vil shoenheit #vil shoenheit x reader #jamil viper x reader #jamil viper #angst #suicide tw #tw suicide #suicide

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ideas-live-forever · 11 months

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Different Dates With Ken!

This is my first time writing in a while, so forgive me if I’m rusty! Been obsessed with the Barbie movie, so here’s some Stereotypical Ken x Reader headcanonssss

please feel free to send ken prompts/asks i am so bored!!

(also, i wrote this in like an hour so there’s probably some typos and ken is probably ooc or something i’m sorry 😭)

You and Ken had been dating for a month now, the two of you in the human world

dinner dates

He doesn’t really have a concept of indoor voices, so he kind of talks at a normal volume.

which would be fine, except you’re in a formal restaurant where everyone is basically whispering.

If you gently point it out, though, he’ll go extra quiet and only talk in a whisper for the rest of the dinner.

He’s just paranoid that he’s embarrassing you or something.

When the bill comes, he definitely tries to pay it (assuming he has money).

If you get to the bill first, he gets really pouty, though he’ll forget he was ever upset if you give him a kiss.

“Y/nnnn, let me pay. It’s the least I can do," Ken begs, pulling out the puppy-dog eyes.

"No," you respond. "You try to pay for everything. Let me treat you once in a while."

It takes a great deal of self-control, but you can't stay away from his eyes long enough to pay for dinner. After you hand the check back to the waiter, you glance back at a now-sulking Ken. He looks almost sad.

With an affectionate eye roll and a smile, you lean across the table and press a small kiss onto his lips. Immediately, he melts into it. And when you pull back, he’s all smiles before he remembers that he’s supposed to be mad at you.

If he gets to it first, he pays, and he smiles at you triumphantly, clearly proud of himself.

After dinner, he insists on walking you home because he doesn’t own a car.

At your door, he thanks you for taking him out and kind of stands there awkwardly.

You have to lean in and initiate the goodbye kiss, but he more than enjoys it.

Study dates/coffee shop dates

Ken didn’t go to college, or school at all, really, so he didn’t quite understand the concept of the date you were currently bringing him to.

However, he sat patiently in the coffee shop while you got your stuff together and opened your laptop, just smiling at you like an idiot.

He takes the time to admire you in your element.

When you ask him what coffee he wants so you can get it for him, he cocks his head in confusion.

"There are, like, different kinds?" he asks innocently, glancing between you and the sigh with different options he had previously failed to notice.

You have to stifle a giggle at his reaction.

"Yeah, there’s a bunch. Come on, I'll recommend you some."

Ken tried a latte.

He didn’t like it.

However, he sipped on it periodically, mirroring your actions as you looked through your work.

He had brought some books on Horses to look over while you were doing your thing, but he couldn’t really focus on reading while you were right there.

He placed some random sticky notes on the pages absentmindedly as he watched you with wonder in his blue eyes.

If you get frustrated at all, He’s quick to ask what’s bothering you and decides that he’s going to help you study. Whether that involved holding your extra papers or helping you with flashcards,

When you wrap up, you notice how little of his latte he has drank.

When you ask about it, he quickly downs the whole thing, plastering a fake smile on top of his look of disgust.

movie dates

This one was Ken's idea.

There's a movie theater in Barbieland, so he knew the basic premise of a movie date.

Although it took a while for him to figure out how to buy the tickets because in Barbieland they were free,

She definitely picked The Little Mermaid.

It seemed like a safe option to him, considering that everything else was either sad-looking or a horror movie, and he can’t really handle either of those.

The plan was to meet at the theater, so he waited outside for you to get there.

When you did, you two went inside and ordered a large popcorn, but Ken let out a little gasp of excitement at the other snacks on sale.

He ends up buying a pretzel, a bag of chips, and a bag of cookies.

All of which he insists on sharing with you.

When you finally go into the theater, he gets a confused look on his face.

He’s never seen movie ads before, so he assumes they're part of the movie.

"I thought this was about a mermaid."

After explaining it to him, he nods vigorously and blushes a bit in embarrassment.

When the movie finally starts, he smiles really big and turns to look at you.

Ken gets HEAVILY invested in the movie.

He definitely cries during Part of Your World, and he’s horrible at hiding it. That results in him clinging to your arm and the people next to him giving him weird looks.

When it’s over, he has a look of faraway wonder in his eyes.

As you two walk out of the theater, he can’t stop gushing about how cute Ariel and Eric were. And how he wanted to watch the original animated movie. And how you two should have matched Little Mermaid Halloween Costumes

Before you leave to go home, Ken gives you a bone-crushing hug and a thank you for spending your afternoon with him.

Which leads you to kiss him.

Which makes him unable to stop blushing as you say your goodbyes for the night.

#barbie movie #ken x reader #ken x you #ken x y/n #ken headcanon #ken blurbs #stereotypical ken x reader #ryan gosling ken x reader #ken fluff #ken imagine

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ressjeon · 1 year

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fish out of water | jjk

pairing: human!jungkook x mermaid!reader summary: your routined excursion to the above world is at risk thanks to the harmless-looking stranger who might still be a threat to the discovery of your existence. rating: nc-17 | word count: 1k genre/au: fluff, modern retelling, fantasy, dark comedy, little mermaid!au warnings/content: alcohol consumption, threats (playfully tho), near-death experience

a/n: to celebrate the official release of the Little Mermaid live-action movie and MerMay, here’s a small thing from me ig cuz i can’t just let this jungkook go. poll who atp sorry y’all i wrote this when i was missing him sm 😭

The moon has always enamoured you.

The clouds around it add to the picturesque of what you could have painted if artworks can be perfectly stored underwater.

Watching it from above water is unparalleled when you’re observing it from underneath. You bask in the moonlight, occasionally closing your eyes and imagining being able to moon gaze like this every night. That would be impossible including staying here any longer as it is strictly forbidden for you to be out here in the open on land.

It doesn’t matter as long as no one discovers you here—

“omg, a giant fish!”

You whirled right away in the direction of the loud voice, spotting its owner, a man walking sluggishly by the seashore towards you. Panic rushes through you at the prospect of being identified, your mind prompting you to think of possible ways of escape.

The position you are currently, sitting on top of the huge rocks unfortunately doesn’t give you much of an advantage to attack him unless he comes near. And he was slurring words that you’re trying to decipher. He doesn’t appear to have any weapons with him except for that strange transparent object in one hand with gold liquor in it.

You ready your stance the closer he gets, bracing both your clawed hands in front of you. He might use that object or the liquor against you. One of your advantages is the lack of enough light where the scenario would’ve been different had it been during the day. You move your tail behind you so he won’t be able to see it further.

“oh wait, you’re pretty for a fish!” the strange man starts to giggle as a points at you and you’re in confusion.

Did he just compliment you? Aren’t humans supposed to be scared of your kind?

“i’m not a fish” you declare calmly despite the wave of anxiousness bubbling in you. He may be just a human but he could also be acting all innocent, a perfect bait to lure you to his other comrades that may be hiding somewhere.

Waiting to capture you.

Your father warned you of how vicious humans are so you must not trust him even though he seemed harmless. You’ve looked around and a bit of relief washes through you when you found no one on the shore aside from him. Still, you mustn’t lower your guard.

You continue to observe the man as he continues to walk where you’re sitting by the rocks. Only then you can see his face more clearly. He’s pleasing to look at, different from the humans that you’ve seen in fishing boats before. Wearing only a plain white shirt, its top buttons are undone which makes him more dashing than he already is.

The simple loose pants he’s wearing perk your interest as you quite can’t figure out what material it was made of yet.

“i must be drunk holy shit, i’m talking to a fish” he continues to laugh, smiling brightly while looking up to the sky and you’re getting warier of what he is planning.

You’re running out of time and this man is wasting it. You promised the others that you won’t be that long. You wouldn’t want them to come back and find you in a company of a human boy.

He’s right in front of you now, drinking what’s left of the strange object he’s holding before placing it on the dark sand. You’re surprised that he was able to stand up again, wobbly, sure, but it did not affect how he’s acting around you.

Quite the opposite for you the closer he gets.

Your eyes couldn’t help but follow his right arm, adorned with dark markings, some with colour but you couldn’t see the rest of it since he rolled his sleeves up until his elbows.

“how can i be a fish and talk to you like this?”

The man stares at you with furrowed eyebrows, confusion evident on his face. Only then that you notice his hair, slightly damp curly that almost reaches the base of his neck.

“i can see your tail” he responds with a bit of clarity now, still confused but his curiosity overpowered it. He’s now trying to see behind the rocks, to see more of what the moonlight can show. He looks adorable, tip-toeing to get a glimpse of your tail and you’re tempted to show him just so he can leave you alone.

Fully revealing yourself could scare him or not but you’ll try. It worked with others before along with many threats. If not, then you could kill him though he doesn’t look like he can harm you in this state.

“i could eat you, but i'm full already” you hiss, trying to sound threatening and staring him down with a glare but the man starts laughing hysterically instead.

"i'm supposed to be eating you since you're a fish" he wheezes as he shakes his head, enough for him to lose his balance.

You catch him just in time and you have no idea why you did. You could’ve just let him fall on the rocks in front of you and call your sisters for another feast but you couldn’t find it in you to let it happen.

“damn..strong..fish” he slurred before losing consciousness in your arms. In a strange way, you find yourself smiling at the stranger’s remarks. He might be well-built but he weighs like nothing to you with your inhuman strength.

Up close, his rosy cheeks are glowing and you’re unable to avoid touching them, feeling the warmth coursing through you. Albeit your body’s much colder than humans, it piques your interest that he feels warmer than the others you’ve held before. You can also smell the bitter scent wafting off of him, leading you to think that all this was because of that golden liquor that he consumed.

You eye the glassy object, looking back and forth between him and it on what to do next. But his face distracts you again, noticing the pieces of jewelry on him. A silver necklace is peeking out underneath his shirt and only his right ear has silver bands on them. You’ve also noticed a ring-like silver metal attached to the right corner of his lower lip.

Is this a new way of putting on jewelry?

It seems that you have plenty of things to catch up on and this man might help you with it.

But will he when once wakes up or will he turn out just like the others?

e/n: i have big plans for this one but we’ll see lmao. lmk what you think tho!

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justaz · 4 days

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enchanted!arthur during the musical episode singing “did i mention” from descendants to merlin. yeah.

edit: merlin is singing “i won’t say (i’m in love)” from hercules while the knights insist he is. denial is a riVER IN EGYPT-

edit 2: merlin is now singing “falling for ya” from teen beach movie. shits getting real.

edit 3: the knights set up a date for merthur and while lancelot is singing “kiss the girl” from the little mermaid

edit 4: morgana is having her main character moment now and is singing “she’s so gone” from lemonade mouth in her chambers. DAMN IT she ruined merthur’s date. wait…what’s she doing with that dagger?? UTHER WATCH- oh nvm get his ass morgana

edit 5: the knights set up another date for merthur and lancelot and gwaine are singing “can you feel the love tonight” from the lion king (timon and pumba’s parts are about merlin). elyan, percival, and leon are singing the chorus and slow dancing in the background- oh nvm they’re just twerking really slowly. merlin is singing simba’s part while arthur is singing nala’s.

edit 6: gwen is giving heart eyes to lancelot and singing “he could be the one” from hannah montana 3

edit 7: merlin can’t find a cure to the love spell over arthur and gwen brings up true loves kiss and merlin doesn’t believe her but she says to try anyways. merlin is staring at arthur across the field and singing “one kiss” from descendants 3

edit 8: merthur are being soft and awkward around each other and since merlin didn’t want to enter a courtship with secrets, he revealed his magic to arthur. things have been tense but now they’re singing “something there” from beauty and the beast. it looks like arthur is coming around

edit 9: they’re singing “i see the light” from tangled. they’re all alone under the stars. they’re leaning in closer. they’re…HOLY FUCK THEY’RE KISSING

#holy fuck #shut up #bbc merlin #merlin emrys #arthur pendragon #merthur #gwencelot #knights of the round table #morgana #gwen #guinevere #lancelot #gwaine #elyan #leon #percival #someone please take my phone away

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waratah-moon · 1 year

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I Think We're Alone Now

Mom and Dad finally get some alone time. Smutty addition to Gremlin - takes place during moment 3. Thank you to @lfaewrites for beta reading!

Gremlin / read on ao3 / masterlist

Pairing: Dad!Eddie x Mom!Reader

Word count: 3.7k

Warnings: SMUT (oral f receiving, unprotected p in v - let's imagine everyone's been tested and reader is on the pill), established relationship, insecure reader, teen pregnancy (not elaborated on), boyfriend shaped Eddie fluff Steal my work and I will hex you

As soon as you'd gotten to the Mayfield's trailer, Indie had bounded inside straight to the dollhouse Max had set up especially for her in the corner.

You handed Max your daughter's backpack, telling her you had packed her lunchbox and tucked a Care Bears VHS inside the front pocket. “She’s had a bit of a runny nose this morning and she refused to eat breakfast so-“

“Seriously, we’ll be fine." Max knew your deal, you had gone through the same spiel every time you dropped Indie off for the past year. She responded with her regular answer, "you’re like 100 feet away.”

“Don’t hesitate to drop her back, okay?”

“Actually please do hesitate," Eddie was leaning against the doorframe, bouncing his leg. "It’s been ages.”

Of course that's what he was most concerned about. You raised your eyebrows in warning. “Eddie.”

He copied you. “Babe.”

Max grinned. “Don’t worry about it. Pick her up whenever. You two have fun," she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively and shut the fly screen.

"Will do, see you later. Bye Gremlin, love you," Eddie called out, dragging you back to your own trailer across the way.

It always took a while for the worry to ebb away whenever you left your daughter with someone who wasn’t Eddie. Even though Max had been regularly looking after her for the better part of a year and you trusted her completely, part of you was still worried something would happen.

Eddie was the complete opposite, allowing common sense to reign. He knew that Mayfield and your daughter were only in the trailer opposite, literally 100 feet away. And he trusted that Mayfield would bring her straight back if something happened that she couldn’t handle. But he also knew that Mayfield could handle a lot.

Eddie wrapped his arms around your waist, placing a kiss on your forehead. "Baby they’ll be fine, they always are. How about I make popcorn and we can watch that dumb mermaid movie you love."

"You said you liked Splash ," you mumbled against his chest. You could hear the steady lub-dub of his heart and you were enjoying the way he was stroking your hair.

"I like Daryl Hannah's ass." He quickly added, "not as much as I like yours, though. You know I love your ass. Hey, maybe we could get you a mermaid tail.”

You rolled your eyes, but managed a smile.

Eddie made it halfway through the movie before he put the moves on you. It started with the classic yawn and arm around the shoulder, which quickly turned into groping your breast through the thin fabric of your shirt; his breath hitching when he felt that you weren’t wearing a bra.

"Seriously?"

"I almost made it a whole hour, are you proud of me?"

"Very."

"Great, can we have sex now please?"

He phrased it so stupidly, like a horny teenager begging to get laid, but it still managed to give you butterflies.

You'd been with Eddie for three years, and the insecure girl part of your brain was worried that at any moment the romance would fizzle and die out. It shocked you that even though he'd seen you at your most vulnerable: sick, depressed, pregnant, deep in the throes of childbirth, he still tried to jump your bones every chance he got. You weren't sure how many times he'd have to tell you that all those little moments combined made him love you even more than was humanly possible for you to believe it.

But horny Eddie made it a little easier to believe. Horny Eddie made you feel wanted and desired, which satiated the insecure girl part of your brain for an hour, or two, or a whole night. It depended on the babysitting situation.

It didn’t take more than you climbing onto his lap for him to attach his mouth to yours, groaning deeply when you parted your lips.

Proper kisses between you two, the kind that weren’t just a peck on the lips or cheek, had become rare since you’d had Indie. Usually they were stolen in the kitchen; you pressed up against the counter while Eddie distracted you from dinner, lasting the amount of time your daughter was preoccupied with the TV. Or they were lazy morning kisses where you kept missing each other's lips because your eyes were full of sleep; the ones that usually ended in muffled giggles as you tried not to wake Indie as she slept in the cot at the end of your bed. But kisses that turned into making out were especially rare and took extra planning. The kisses that had you moaning as you reminded yourselves of the architecture of the other's mouth. The kisses that moved from your lips to your jaw to your neck, inevitably finding their way between your legs.

“Babe, bedroom,” you were already panting, breathless as he trailed his tongue along your jaw. He hummed against your skin, the vibration buzzing deep in your bones, making your toes curl.

He didn’t need to be told twice, taking your hand and leading you the short distance to the bedroom before he pushed you unceremoniously onto the bed. He pulled off his shirt, and you did the same, also shedding your jeans, as he slotted himself between your legs.

“Pants off,” your fingers deftly unbuckled his belt, tugging the denim down his legs. Normally he’d make a remark about how eager you were, but the truth was he didn’t have it in him; it had been awhile since the two of you had been alone together. His head was clouded with dirty thoughts of you; you naked, you moaning, you screaming his name, you swallowing him whole.

His fingers trailed down your body, stopping to circle your pebbled nipples, fluttering over the expanse of your stomach before they found their way between your legs; tracing your cotton covered slit.

“Eddie,” you breathed, pushing your hips up, his touch far too delicate for your liking.

He pushed the material aside, dipping two fingers between your folds and smirked when he found you wet. “What do you want, sweetheart?” You knew exactly what he meant; fingers or mouth.

“Your mouth. Please,” you couldn’t help whining as he dragged your panties down your thighs, exposing your soaking cunt to the cool air.

He dove between your legs like a man starved. It had been much too long, in Eddie’s humble opinion, since he’d gotten to taste you. Far too long since he’d gotten to hear the little whimpers of pleasure and feel your hips buck as he nibbled, sucked, and licked you to your peak.

Just as the familiar pressure started building in the pit of your stomach, a loud series of knocks came from the front door.

"No," Eddie groaned, the vibrations sent a delicious prickle through your body. "Can we just ignore it and wait for them to go away?"

It was really hard to concentrate when his nose was purposely rubbing against your clit. You exhaled, trying to distract yourself from the subtle heat in your belly. "It might be Max."

"It might not be," he'd moved to kissing the crease in your thigh, his teeth and lips gently nipping the skin.

"You know Indie had a runny nose this morning."

"Pretty sure that's normal. They don't call them snot-nosed kids for no reason."

"Eddie,” you pushed his shoulder with your foot.

He huffed, reluctantly removing his head from between your thighs. "Fine. But someone better be dying."

"EDDIE!"

"You know what I mean," he pulled on a pair of sweat pants and grabbed his tee-shirt before heading to the front door.

You flopped your head back on the pillow, and counted the green glow in the dark stars Eddie had stuck on the ceiling in the shape of Andromeda. 5 big stars, 11 little ones. Eddie had chosen that constellation, saying he’d found it in a book on astronomy in the library one day and decided the stars needed a shape. He said that Andromeda was the most beautiful woman in all of ancient Greece and the constellation was fitting as you were even more beautiful than her; a fact which Eddie was very obviously unbiased about.

You heard the front door open and Eddie’s pissed voice. Okay, so it wasn’t Max at the door. You couldn’t hear any words, your ears only picking up on muffled voices. From his tone you guessed Eddie was attempting to end the conversation, when you suddenly hear a name you hated in high school: Shelley Keibler. That bitch that ruined your chance of becoming Homecoming Queen in senior year when she rigged the vote in her favour. Your mood suddenly soured.

The door slammed shut and footsteps made their way towards the bedroom. You sat up as Eddie walked in, pulling off his tee-shirt as he made his way over to the bed. “Who was at the door?”

“Dustin,” he collapsed against you, his hands finding purchase on your hips.

“The freshman who joined Hellfire? Why was he talking about Shelley Keibler?”

He groaned, his cheek flat against your bare stomach. There were other things he wanted to be doing that did not involve discussing a girl he knew you hated from high school. “He said she was flirting with me last week.”

You raised your eyebrow, “was she?”

“Yep,” he kissed the skin next to your navel, his fingers edging between your thighs. You clamped your legs shut and he frowned. “What?”

“Why was Shelley Keibler flirting with you?”

Eddie looked up at you through dark lashes, grinning knowingly. “Are you jealous?”

You scoffed, “of that bitch? ‘Course not.” He could always tell when you were lying, not that you were doing a good job of hiding it.

“Aw, baby,” he pouted, moving his way up your body. “She thought $20 for half an ounce was too steep. Tried to flatter her way into a discount.”

“Did she get one?”

“No. I made an extra $10 and bought you flowers,” he reached your face, planting a kiss on the corner of your mouth.

“Oh,” you looked over at your dresser where a vase of gerberas sat. They were beginning to wilt, but you couldn’t bring yourself to throw them away. He’d come home one day last week with them hidden behind his back, presenting the bunch to you for no reason whatsoever. He’d said he’d gotten them “because you deserve something almost as pretty as you."

He cupped your cheek, turning your face so you were looking in his eyes. “You know I love you, right? More than anything,” he tugged on your bottom lip with his thumb to stop you from biting it. “I love our life together. I love our little family. You’re it for me, sweetheart. I don’t want anyone else.”

“Eds,” you started, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. As you moved to place a kiss on the closest part of his skin you could reach, his wrist, his hands moved to grip your thighs.

“Now can we please fuck? I’ve been thinking about railing you all week.”

You shut your eyes, the tears instantly drying. “Really? You were being so sweet and then you had to go and ruin it.”

“I’ll ruin you,” he countered, a toothy grin contradicting the dirty undertones of his words.

“I’d like to see you try.” You knew he could do it easily. He’d done it so many times before; left you a blathering cock drunk mess as he coaxed yet another orgasm from your shaking body. But Eddie loved a challenge and you knew how to tease him to get what you wanted.

“Are you doubting my abilities?” His palms splayed against your thighs, spreading them open so he could admire your glistening cunt. “Still wet?”

He used two fingers to part your folds, watching as a mixture of your arousal and his saliva dripped onto the sheets below. “I really didn’t mean to edge you before. Fucking Henderson ruins everything.” He pursed his lips as he decided his next move, his thumb putting the slightest amount of pressure on your clit. “I reckon you’ve earned an orgasm, don’t you think?”

“Yes,” you moved your hips, hoping to create some friction against his hand.

He obliged, sinking two fingers deep inside. You gasped when he curled them upwards, hitting just the right spot that ignited a fire in your belly.

Eddie knew exactly how your body worked, he’d tested every set of moves on you over the years and gotten the right combination that had you twisting and squirming beneath his hands. He attached his lips to your clit, sucking and flicking his tongue, causing delicious white hot pain to sear down your legs, leaving pins and needles in your feet.

Your eyes were screwed shut, your chest heaving as you tried to hold off the mounting pressure, you knew the longer you held out, the more intense the pleasure would be. You gripped his hair, needing something to ground you to this moment as your back arched off the bed. You couldn’t take much more, his constant assault leaving your brain foggy and empty, the urge to let go too desperate.

“Fuck, Eddie, yes,” you cried out through shuddering gasps.

The release hit you with an intensity you hadn’t felt in a while, your mind instantly blanking to a white slate as Eddie helped you ride out your high.

“Baby?” His voice sounded muffled, like he was standing at the end of a long, echoing tunnel. “Sweetheart?”

You opened your eyes, the room blurry like you were looking down the lens of an unfocused camera. You rubbed your eyes, feeling tears lining your lashes.

“There she is,” he pushed back your hair, stroking your cheekbone with his thumb. Your vision came back to focus and you saw Eddie looking at you in adoration.

“That was intense,” your voice was croaky. It had been a while since you’d had an orgasm that was drawn out and powerful. Usually they were rushed and you never got to fully experience them.

“Are you okay? Do you want some water?”

“I’m good,” you took a second to breath before you reached out to grab his hips. “Very good.” Your hand reached inside his boxers to find he was rock hard. “Did I turn you on?”

“You were doing that sexy gasp you do and moaning my name. Of course that’s going to turn me on.” You allowed your fingertips to trace the prominent vein along the underside of his cock.

“And let me guess, now you want to rail me.”

“Please,” he dragged the word out, peppering your neck with kisses. “Been thinking about it for so long.”

You let out a breathy laugh, pulling his boxers down his thighs. When they slid to his ankles, he kicked them off. “Do you want me to ride you?”

“I’ll cum in a second if you’re on top and that would be tragic for my ego.”

You wrapped your legs around his waist as he dragged the tip of his cock between your folds, groaning at the sweet schlicking sound made by your wetness. Your breath hitched as the head brushed over your sensitive clit, the gasp turning into a moan as he pushed slowly into your cunt.

“Jesus, baby,” he pushed in further and you tried to relax your muscles, feeling your walls fluttering around him. When he finally entered fully in, he stopped for a moment, pressing a kiss to your damp forehead. “God, we’re made for each other.”

It felt heavenly to be so full and stretched out around his cock, and his words were so sweet, eyes hazy with love and admiration for you. But right now you need him to fulfil his promise and fuck you. “Fucking hell, move!”

“Right, sorry sweetheart, you’re just so beautiful and I love seeing you under me-”

You arched your back, grinding your hips against him, “I swear to God.”

He rocked his hips back before slamming forward, your skin slapping together where your bodies met. You gripped onto his back, his skin blanching as your fingertips dug into the corded muscles.

The pace he’d chosen to set, quick and bruising, would wear anyone out, but he managed to maintain it for a good few minutes before he began panting in your ear.

“Baby I don’t think I’m going to last much longer with you squeezing around me.”

“I can’t help it, you feel so good,” he was hitting just the right spot deep within you. Your hand moved to your clit, rubbing the sensitive bundle as you felt the tingling pressure building.

Eddie buried his face in the crook of your neck, nipping at the skin to stop his shuddering breaths. You could feel his thighs begin to tremble, the telltale sign he was close.

Your fingers quickened around your clit, your other hand moving to squeeze his balls as his thrusts moved out of rhythm.

“Oh fuck, babe, shit, yes,” he jerked inside you and you could tell he wouldn’t last much longer. With the way he was gasping in your ear, you wouldn’t either.

“Eddie, baby, just a little longer, I’m almost there,” you breathed, the pressure in your stomach reaching a fever pitch.

It was his moan, you think, that sent you over the edge. The throaty sob that racked through his entire body. The way his hair was stuck to his forehead, the veins in his neck prominent when he threw his head back as he came. It was angelic in the dirtiest way possible.

He collapsed against you and you rubbed his back as he came down from his high. His skin was hot and clammy, your fingertips drawing abstract shapes along his spine.

After a few minutes, Eddie grabbed his tee-shirt from the end of the bed, placing it underneath you before he pulled out.

“Ugh, that’s gross,” you groaned, watching as his cum dripped out of you, pooling on the ratty tee-shirt.

“What, it’s going in the wash anyway,” he stood up and stretched, pulling the tee-shirt out and folding it over itself, using the sleeve to wipe himself. He disappeared from the bedroom and you heard the washing machine lid open.

He did it every time. Even though you’d put a hand towel on the dresser specifically for that purpose, he always went for whatever band tee-shirt he was wearing prior to stripping off. He came back with a damp washcloth and a glass of water, which he placed on your nightstand. You mumbled a “ thanks,” and took a sip, the cold water instantly revitalising you from your post-sex sleepy haze.

“Push up,” he instructed as he wiped the washcloth between your legs and the inside of your thighs. He was gentle, careful not to put too much pressure on the sensitive area as he cleaned. “There. Perfect as always,” he placed a kiss above your pubic bone.

The two of you stripped the bed and changed the sheets, loading up the washing machine to full capacity. Then you took a shower together, washing each other as you alternated who stood under the water stream of the shower/tub combo. Eddie bent down, letting you wash his hair with your expensive vanilla coconut shampoo, the scent of which he loved. You then picked out the comfiest clothes in your wardrobe and hoped back in bed.

It was moments like this that you cherished. When the two of you were quiet, both basking in the comfortable afterglow, and enjoying each other’s company. Alone together. Eddie was sitting between your legs as you leant against the headboard, his hands running over the clean floral sheets. He was resting against you, his shoulder blades flush against your chest, his eyes shut as you played with his hair.

You hadn’t even realised your fingers were absentmindedly passing damp strands over one another until he asked, “are you braiding my hair?”

You looked down, a french braid beginning to form on his head. “Huh, apparently I am.”

The first time you had braided his hair was soon after you’d started dating. He’d gotten too drunk after a gig and you hadn’t wanted to spend your night holding his hair back over the toilet, so you’d braided it to keep it out of his face. When he woke up the next morning he told you he loved it and spent the whole morning running his fingers over the bumps. Braids quickly became one of Eddie’s love languages; whenever he got a little too tipsy, sleepy, sick, or he’d had a bad day, he’d beg you to braid his hair. Since Indie had come into your lives, you hadn’t had much time for soft moments between you two, but Eddie still sat in the bathroom and watched you braid your daughter’s hair every morning before you dropped her off at daycare. “Is it pretty?”

“You’re always pretty, Eds,” you knew he liked that answer by the faint hum of approval he made. Not that you were lying, Eddie was beautiful. You reached for a hair tie off the nightstand, securing the braid in his hair. “There you go, baby boy.” You gave the braid a tug, placing a soft kiss on his cheek.

“Wait,” he tilted his head, catching your lips with his, his hand reaching up to cup your cheek. You let out a content sigh, your arms draping over his shoulders as you relaxed into the kiss.

“I can’t wait until we have our own room again.”

“I know, it’s been way too long since you’ve woken me up with a BJ.”

“Oh, so that’s what you’re expecting when we move into the new house, huh? Morning head?”

The pair of you had finally saved up enough money to rent a small two bedroom house, which you were planning on moving into next week. Your current living situation, which involved Indie sleeping in a crib at the end of your bed, was far from ideal. The new house offered you each your own room, something you and Eddie were incredibly excited about. Partly because your daughter talked in her sleep (which you both agreed was adorable, if not somewhat annoying), but mostly because it afforded you the opportunity to have sex whenever you want.

“What can I say, I’m easy to please.”

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